HetaliaxReader one-shots
by Sophie-U.F
Summary: Read the title...
1. 2P Italy

(F/n) (l/n), also known as the 2P of (country) was a very calm person, shy, almost like a female version of Gillen; she had always been a good friend of the german brothers, almost like a little sister to them, Flavio adored her, Kuro had always seemed rather indifferent towards her, but there was someone else, someone who had always acted in a curious way whenever near her. Luciano had always been rather protective of the (h/c) head, despite his cold and murderous personality.

'I'm late...' she thought, pressing her arms around her own body in a tentative to escape the cold. It was a cold night, the clouds covered both the moon and the stars, leaving the streets engulfed in darkness; the girl had run late at the office.

(F/n) walked at a fast pace through the dark streets, always attentive to any suspicious sound around her.

She gazed at her watch, it read 11:30pm.

'This late already? I have to hurry!' She thought, quickening her pace. Around her, on the empty streets, the wind was tarting to pick up; her hearing was now useless due to the sound of the wind blowing past her.

Unable to hear and narrowing her eyes to protect them from the strong gusts, she failed to notice a group of men approaching her. When she did take notice of the new presences was already too late, her back collided with a wall due to the violence which one of the men had used to push her. She looked up, the large structure of the males made her feel weak, insecure and powerless as she found herself facing them.

"Look what we found~!" One mused.

"Lookin' for someone to play with, lassie?" The one pinning her down chuckled, his foul breath bringing tears to the female's eyes.

"Leave me alone..." she muttered, struggling against the man's grip.

"What did ya say, cutie?" Another joked. "Can't hear ya!"

"Let go!" She shouted. Her move to kick the lower parts of the man holding her down was stopped by one of the hands of that same man.

"Feisty, huh?" The man barked, quickly subduing her and forcing his tongue in her mouth. She felt so powerless, she couldn't do a thing to save herself; tears started spilling from her (e/c) orbs as she felt the man's hands moving inside her clothes.

Her eyes shut closed as she expected for the worse to happen. Then, all of a sudden, she stopped feeling the man's disgusting touch and breath on her. Fearfully, she dared to open her eyes, what she saw was the man's body laying on the ground with a knife stuck on his neck; the other men seemed to be in a paralyzed state as their gazes were fixed on the person standing on the alleyway's end. The new presence seemed too entranced with the movements of the knife twirling on it's hand to pay attention to anything else; taking this opportunity, the 5 men launched an attack, the new presence didn't move from it's place, but his eyes turned to the men as the knife stopped twirling.

This person's eyes were a deep shade of lilac, and (f/n) would recognise them anywhere.

"Luciano..." the girl breathed out in relief, taking her hands to her chest in a vain try to calm her heart; her eyes closed once she heard the first scream, she didn't want to see the blood being spilled all over as the bodies dropped at the italian's feet.

No more than a few seconds had passed when a warm hand touched the female's wet cheek, she hadn't realized how much she had been crying.

"Ssh, principessa..." his voice was soothing as he wiped the tears off her face. "They can't-a hurt you-a anymore!" The male carefully scooped her up, starting to walk towards the house she shared with him, the other Axis, Gillen and Flavio.

"Thank you..." she whispered, her head placed on the crook of his neck.

"Prego!" He chuckled.

A comfortable silence fell upon the duo, none of the twu uttered a sound. During those silent moments, a question strucked the (colour)ette's mind.

"Luci..." she called, catching the male's attention. "How did you know where i was?" The question caused the italian to look down at the girl on his arms.

"You were-a taking too-a long, and i-a came to-a look for you-a!" Luciano stated. "Couldn't afford to-a have someone hurting you-a, principessa mia!" His reference to her caused a light blush to crawl up to the (nationality)'s face. "I think i'll-a start going with you to-a and-a from the-a work!" Italy added with a smirk. "We don't-a want the-a same happening again, do-a we?"

"No..." (country) muttered as the red head placed her on the ground so he could open the door.

"Good!" He stated, placing a kiss on the female's cheek.

They both entered the house and, inside, the dining room where everyone else was.

"Vhere vere jou?" Lutz demanded, not daring to raise his voice more as Luciano was present.

"Oh, (f/n), bella... you look-a terrible, what-a happened to-a you?" Flavio shot, not letting any of the newcomers answer the german's question.

"W-well..." she fidgeted.

"That has-a nothing to-a do with you-a, fratello!" Luciano growled, taking the (nationality) into an embrace and leading her to her room. "I'll-a bring you something to-a eat, principessa!" He said, quickly returning to the room where the other male's stood.


	2. Daisy (Poland)

"Meow, meow..." the sound echoed loudly throughout the house.  
"Finny, how I hate you...!" groaned a (h/c) haired girl, diving deeper into her pillow in a tentative to, at least, diminish the quantity of the annoying sound that reached her ears alongside a maybe too familiar laughter.  
A train of sung 'meow's echoed on her eardrums, causing a headache to start raising; annoyed, (f/n) hurriedly got up and stomped her way to the living room where her husband was entertained playing with one of the presents he had received for Christmas.  
"For god's sake, Feliks!" she shot, walking into the room; the male, acknowledging the new presence, raised his head from the girlish toy. "It's 7am and you're already on that?"  
"Good morning, (f/n)!" chirped the polish. "You look like, tottaly cute like that!"  
"Compliments won't save you now, sweety!" she said, flicking his forehead. "It's been over a week since Christmas and you haven't paid attention to anything nor anyone except that... That... Thing!" she accused, walking away and back to their shared bedroom.  
Blinking, Poland looked back at the doll.  
"What was like all that about?" he muttered, picking up the toy to pet. "She looked so totally..." the sound of the front door slamming interrupted him. "...mad..." he finished, adding: "Guess she really is mad... Not fabulous at all! Wonder why..."  
"Maybe I should like ask Liet what he thinks; yeah, that's so totally what I'm going to do!" he mused, picking up the toy and his phone, quickly dialing Lithuania's number.

Meanwhile, at Austria's...  
"Hello Roderich, is Elizabeta in here?"  
"Good morning (f/n)! Yes, she is, why do you ask?" replied the austrian, lightly raising an eyebrow.  
"I... I need to talk." it was the only answer he obtained from the female; with a nod, he allowed her in with the indication that the hungarian was in the garden. (Country) quickly made her way to the backyard.

"It can't be that, (f/n) would like never be jealous of one of my fabulous toys!" Poland denied for the 100th time.  
"I really think she's angry because you pay that thing more attention than you do to her, but if you think I'm wrong..." explained Toris as he had been doing for the last 2 hours, after hearing his bestfriend's complaints. "Maybe you should ask Miss Hungary, she is (country)'s bestfriend after all!" suggested the lithuanian.  
"That's like a totally great idea!" shot Feliks. "Thanks Liet, I'll talk to you later!"  
Poland hung up, hurrying to dial the hungarian's number.

"...and he hasn't let go of that thing ever since!" stated (f/n), finishing her explanation.  
"And what toy was it?" wondered Elizabeta. "You never did tell me!"  
"It was that stupidly annoying cat 'Daisy' from Furreal Friends!" snarled the (nationality).  
"I'm sure it's just a phase, he'll soon forget about it and be back to hug you everywhere and everytime, even when he's not supposed to!" Elizabeta comforted.  
"And to make things worse, that cat actually sings better than I do!" (f/n) complained with a huff.  
"Now you're just being mean to yourself, it can't be that bad!" Hungary intervened.  
"I'm really starting to think that he doesn't like me anymore..." (country) cried out, tears starting to spill from her eyes. "...even the weeks before Christmas, ever since the beginning of December, he didn't pay me attention..."  
Hungary carefully heard her friend's rambling and empathically rubbed the girl's back, but her phone started ringing. Leading the (h/c) head to the piano room, she escaped back to the outside to answer her phone.

"Would you like a cup of tea? Or maybe coffee?" wondered Austria, who had appeared out of the nowhere carrying a tray with said beverages, sugar, spoons and cups.  
"Thank you..." she whispered with a nod, making and preparing her choice while the austrian made his way to the piano, his fingers starting to move on the keypad, creating a melody that seemed to calm the guest's spirit.

"Hungary, I like totally need your help!" whined Poland.  
"Let me guess...! About (f/n)?" she huffed.  
"You know?"  
"Of course I do, she came to talk to me!" shot the hungarian.  
"Right...!" muttered the polish. "So, I like talked to Liet and he told me that she's totally jealous of the cat, but then I told him that she is way~ too fabulous for jealousy and he like told me ask for your opinion!" Feliks blurted. "So, what do you say?"  
"I say..." she started. "...that I agree with Lithuania; and that (f/n) is not only jealous of that toy, but she also thinks that you don't care for her anymore!"  
"Really? But I like remember that she was the one saying that we totally should get a cat...!"  
"I don't think she meant it like that..." Hungary sighed.  
"Then what could she mean? 'Daisy' is totally a cat!"  
"I think she meant a real cat, not one that was a toy for children." explained the female patiently.  
"I suppose it makes sense..." he mused; some time passed by before he continued: "Don't you, like, by chance, know what's (f/n)'s totally favourite cat?"  
"Well... I do happen to know that she likes (species), why?"  
"Nothing! I have to go, bye Lizzie!" he finished.

\- Time skip brought you by Poland's fabulous horse -

(F/n) picked up her phone that was ringing insistently, interrupting her conversation with Austria and Hungary.  
"Yes?"  
"(F/n), like come outside, I have a totally fabulous thing to show you!" Poland's voice came.  
"If it's another of 'Daisy''s accomplishment's, then I don't care." replied the girl, keeping her voice as emotionless as possible.  
"It's not, trust me!" he assured. "Pretty please~?"  
"Fine, fine, I'm coming..." she acceded with an annoyed sigh.  
Hanging up, she bid farewell to her friends and exited Austria's mansion. Looking around, it wasn't hard to find Poland's car; she was quick to reach said car, and Poland was was even quicker pulling her inside and taking off.  
"Where are we going?" (f/n) inquired, clearly not happy.  
"Home, of course!" Feliks replied happily.  
"I thought this had nothing to do with 'Daisy'." she grumbled.  
"It doesn't, like I told you to trust me!" he stated.  
The rest of their trip was made in silence, until they reached the building that was their home. Shooting out of the car, Poland bolted to the passenger's door, opened it and helped his wife out, like he had done so many times, especially back in the centuries when they used horses and carts instead of the still nonexistent cars.  
"Thank you..." she muttered, gladly accepting is help.  
He hurriedly lead her to the house, looking, for some reason, like an excited kid waiting to open the Christmas' presents.  
"What the hell is wrong with you, Feliks?" (country) demanded. "You're acting even stranger than usual!"  
"Maybe..." he shrugged. "Like, you totally have to come to the living room!" with this being said, large hands fell upon small shoulders and lightly pushed the female towards the mentioned division, a frown took over her features.  
A 'meow' echoed, reaching their ears, Feliks smiled brightly at this, but (f/n)'s scowl only deepened.  
But a surprise was ready for the girl...  
As they entered the room, the sight was unexpected, to say the least. Stretched on the sofa, lazily lying down was a cat, with orange and white fur, green eyes, a pink colar around the neck and a pink bow on top of the head, the cat looked just like the annoying toy, 'Daisy', but this cat was a real one.  
"Do you like want to name her?" mused Poland from behind his wife, unable to notice her expression. She nodded enthusiastically.  
"Anything but 'Daisy' is fine, really."  
"Hmm... What about (cat/name)? Isn't that a totally fabulous name?" he suggested.  
"That seems great!" (f/n) agreed, quickly kneeling down beside the sofa and starting to pet the purring kitten. She restrained from squealing over the animal's cuteness.

"Like, I totally know what I want for the next Christmas, or maybe even my birthday!" stated Poland.  
"And what is it, sweety?"  
"A baby doll..." he chirped, causing (country)'s face to pale considerably. "...like, one of those that cry and eat and crawl and walk and talk and we even have to change them the diapers!"  
"Feliks, if you want a baby, get a real one!" she snapped, not realizing what words left her mouth. "I don't anymore of these toys in here!"  
"But even if we get started now, the baby won't be here by my birthday~!" he whined.  
"What...?" (f/n) breathed out, eyes widening as she realized what she had said.  
"But by Christmas time..." a whisper entered her ear.


	3. Rome x Lusitania Reader

The life had always gone by with relative peace for the people of the south-western peninsula of the ancient world (Europe); people from Lusitania, Iberia and Celt lived harmoniously with each other, until...  
They invaded the peninsular lands...

"Good morning, everyone!" greeted (f/n), a young girl with (h/l) (h/c) tresses and (e/c) orbs that shined with bright morning sun, as she skipped around the small village where she lived, deep inside her territory; you might not know this, but (f/n) was the personification of the land between the rivers Douro and Tejo, the land called Lusitania.  
She received back greetings from everyone that saw her, smiles and pecks on the cheeks were traded around. She skipped until she reached her destiny, a small hut a bit further away from the others where lived the leader of this village, the leader of the lusitanian people, a man with shoulder-length brown hair, tanned skin and dark-brown eyes, Viriato was his name. Looking around for the leader of the land she represented, (f/n) found the man taking care of his sheep.  
"Hello, Viriato!" she called, a smile adorning her features.  
"Good morning, Lusitania..." he replied in a not-so-enthusiastic tone.  
"Did something wrong happen?" wondered the girl, a flash of confusion in her gaze.  
"No, did the celtics send you any news?" he asked.  
"Not yet, it has been a week since I last heard of them!" she answered. "Why do you ask?" a frown settled on the female's features as a preoccupied sigh left the male's lips.  
"I've been hearing rumors about an invasion of the peninsula." he muttered, causing the girl's eyes to narrow dangerously.  
"By who?" she growled.  
"The romans!"  
"You mean... The Roman Empire?" the (h/c) head seemed baffled at this. "B-but... They have never bothered coming here. Why now?"  
The only response she obtained was a shake from the tanned man. Narrowing her eyes, she ran to the side of a horse that was nearby and hopped up, mounting the large animal, a brown typical lusitanian horse.  
The animal took off running south; (f/n) turned her head back and shouted:  
"I'll take him for a while!"  
"Be careful!" Viriato called back, his voice getting lost on the wind blowing violently around the girl.  
They galloped fast, always heading south; (f/n) needed to see for herself and for the good of the land she represented and it's people if this rumor was true.  
The day replaced the night sooner than she liked, but the run never stopped. A week later, before she could even reach her destiny, she saw, from the top of a hill, the romans marched through the lands, the legions proudly followed their chiefs, and their chiefs proudly followed a tall warrior with short brown hair and amber eyes; she'd say it was the emperor, but she knew better than that that the Roman emperor rarely left the capital, so her next guess was that this man was the personification of the empire itself; and, side-by-side with her fellow personification was the Roman general responsible for this invasion . Her eyes gazed at the whole length of the army, the amount of warriors was huge, she and her people would have to be smart if they wanted to win this; her eyes travelled further and she saw, being harshly dragged behind the legions, the personification of Celt and his kin.  
"Damn romans, they caught Crain..." growled (f/n), her teeth gritted tightly.  
Turning the horse around, she cast one last glance at the invaders before urging the large animal to start galloping again.  
"Let's go, with the wind!" she stated as the horse took off running at an incredible speed. Luckily, the Roman horses were no match for the lusitanian as they had to cross right through the invaders' way; they passed quickly right in front of the Romans' eyes.

"What-a was that-a?" wondered the human general, Rome merely shook his head in response as he was also confused; one of the prisoners though, noticed exactly what had happened.  
"LUSITANIA, WARN EVERYONE!" shouted Crain, his light brown eyes sparkling with hope that she had heard him.  
Hearing the familiar voice, (f/n) stopped the horse at a safe distance from the army and turned the animal around so she could face the large amount of people.  
"I will!" she called back to her friend, her eyes moving to glare fiercely at her main enemy. "You, Rome!"  
"Me-a?" he blinked, a grin immediately stretching on his face afterwards.  
"YOU WILL NOT GET AWAY WITH THIS!" growled the girl, a sudden wind picking up, causing her hair to blow untamed around her frame; turning the horse around, she quickly disappeared in the distance.  
"Time to-a continue!" ordered the general.  
"No, wait-a!" shot Rome, lifting his hand to stop the other man.  
"But..." tried the general.  
"I-a said wait-a!" said Rome, getting off his horse and running up to the Celtic personification.  
"Who was that-a woman?" demanded the Empire.  
"That woman is... Trouble!" smirked Crain.  
"That didn't-a answer my-a question." stated the roman, raising an eyebrow impatiently; suddenly, something snapped inside his mind. "You-a called her-a Lusitania... Isn't-a that-a our next-a destination?"  
"Yes-a, sir! It-a is." confirmed the general.  
"So... That-a girl is also an immortal, AND-a our next-a conquest-a!" mused Rome.  
"Keep dreaming, that girl is tougher than she looks like." scoffed the Celtic male. "She beats me and Iberia at once! Trust me, she won't be as easy to conquer as you think she will!"  
"She didn't-a seem that-a strong!" commented a Roman soldier.  
"I never said she was..." snickered Crain. "But if you intend to attack the lusitanians in their territory, you stand no chance!"  
"No one can-a stand up to-a the-a Empire, especially not-a such a small-a population!" declared the Roman general as if it was a matter of fact.  
"You might be surprised..." whispered the Celtic personification, making sure that no one could hear his words.  
"Maybe!" mused Rome, seeming deep in thought. "But I'm-a curious, let's-a hurry!" he announced, turning to mount his horse and nodding to the general in a signal to start the march again.

A week passed by, slower than hoped.  
On a certain village of Lusitania, the life was much more agitated than usual. Two weeks had passed and the representative of their land had yet to return; the imminent threat of a possible invasion did not help their case at all.  
On her way back, (f/n) and her companion never stopped to rest; having confirmed the rumor, the lusitan female felt the need to get back home in order to warn everyone about the upcoming dangers. But there was one more thing bothering her, for some reason, the overconfident personification of the Roman Empire didn't leave her mind for a second; his messy brown hair that got messier and messier with the wind, his bright amber eyes that shined almost mirroring the sun, she shook her head, annoyed at her own thoughts.  
Even though they marched along with the Romans and prisoners, there were two people whose minds were far away. Rome was trying to come up with an infallible strategy to ensure the success of their demand to expand the empire, but it would seem that a certain someone really didn't want their invasion to succeed as she always crossed her mind to ruin whatever plan he had just created; Crain's mind never did leave the lusitanian female ever since her appearance, he sincerely hoped that her strategies and traps wouldn't fail her now.

At the end of the day, Lusitania finally reached her home, people cheered and shouted with happiness as they observed her sudden arrival. (F/n) quickly hopped off the horse and took the reigns of the animal in her hand to avoid it escaping.  
"What are the news?" asked an old woman standing close to her.  
"The Romans are coming; we can't rely on numbers for we would be crushed like bugs!" stated the (h/c) head.  
"We should use ambushes, they don't know this lands and we can easily hide and attack!" suggested the lusitanian leader. His idea was, good, and most likely their only chance beside running away like cowards; but this people, they were no cowards, they would fight to defend their land at the best of their capabilities.  
Days went by as the Romans peacefully marched through the mounts and plains on their way to Lusitania. The lusitanians used this time to prepare weapons and traps to fight off the unwanted presences on their lands; everyday and everynight long, lusitanian warriors patrolled the territories in search for any sign of their enemies.  
Five days after (f/n) had arrived back home, the Romans were finally seen during the night; the alarm echoed through the village on that same night. On the following morning, the invaders were installed, their camp wasn't far from the mountain where the lusitanian village was situated; the lusitanians got ready to stop any attack coming from their enemies.  
Two weeks passed and the routine was the same everytime, the Roman patrols entered the zone of the mountain, before running back to the camp, some soldiers not even getting back at all; on the other side, the lusitanians kept their relatively peaceful lives.  
(F/n) had the habit of going to a lake a bit far from the village, deep within the forest; the lake, in the course of a small river, was where the girl usually went for a swim and was where she collected water. During this two weeks, without anyone knowing, Rome had quietly sneaked into the forest to explore the territory and, one day, he happened to stumble on a lake, but, seeing the occupant of the space, he decided to stay hidden in the bushes and watch; and for the rest of the time, he always returned to the back, but at the end of the second week...

This was his fifteenth day going there; sure she was his enemy, but that didn't meen he couldn't like her, right? For what he knew, the girl didn't exactly have the sweetest way of being, how would she react if she knew her foe was watching her when she was in her alone moments?  
He watched as she lifted her brown dress and white underdress up and walked into the water until it reached her knees; he watched as she started to play with the fish, small frogs and small birds in and around the lake; he watched as she twirled around as she mused sweet songs; he was watching so attentively that, before he realized, he fell with a loud splash. Startled by the sudden sound, the girl turned around to face a figure under the water and a bit of blood mixing with the water; quickly, she ran towards the unknown individual, she pulled the man out of the water and dragged him to the land, only to discover that the unknown was in fact the one person she least wanted to see at the moment. Lusitania sighed as she watched his currently harmless form holding his head with his hands.  
"Are you okay?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.  
"Not-a really..." he muttered.  
"Let me see!" (f/n) requested, moving his hands away from his head; Rome's forehead was bleeding to the point that soaked part of his hair, he had probably hit his head on a rock. The male kept silent as the girl cleaned his wound and ripped a part of her dress to bandage his head.  
"Why?" he wondered as she bandaged his forehead.  
"Why what?"  
"Why are you-a helping me-a?" he asked. "For all you-a know, I-a can-a be here to-a attack or ambush you!" his explanation caused the girl to chuckle.  
"What's so-a funny?" demanded the male, a childish pout placed on his adult features.  
"If you were trying to attack me, you would have done so before, and if you were trying to ambush me, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have been so reckless!" she stated, getting up to her feet after finishing bandaging his forehead. "You should get back to your camp now, you shouldn't even be here to begin with!" and so, they parted ways.  
The following two months followed the same routine, Rome and Lusitania only saw each other as consequence of some ambushes; the invaders each day put more and more strength in their attacks, the lusitanians each day struggled more and more against their opponents but never quit. The roman camp cut the lusitanians' way to other places, their territory was limited to the tricherous mountain; the despair of the native people grew bigger by the moment, big enough to the point of make something unbelievable happen.  
Hidden from their fellow lusitanians, two warriors sneaked their way to the camp of the enemy; there they made an arrangement, with the promised reward of a bag of coins, they returned to the village. On that night, the traitors killed the lusitanian leader, the one who had been giving so many problems to the powerful army.  
The following morning, the lusitanians mourned their dear leader's death, but they couldn't afford to loose any time, and so a new leader was chosen; Sertorius, a banned Roman, turned the new leader of the lusitanian people, after obtaining the approval of Lusitania.  
Not necessary to say that the Romans were not happy with this, since Sertorius was just like Viriato, if not worse, getting strategies to keep them away from their goal.  
More months passed... The Romans, tired of getting beaten by the lusitanians, decided to use a darker strategie, one that couldn't fail, one that wouldn't fail. After the nightfall, Rome and two of his warriors covered themselves with dark hooded capes and, silently, infiltrated the native village; Rome went one way, his warriors went the other. That night, Sertorius died and Lusitania disappeared...

"(F/N) VANISHED!"  
"SERTORIUS DIED!"  
These alarms echoed through the whole village, Sertorius had been brutally murdered and mutilated during the night; later on, a patrol came back with terrible news...  
"The Romans have (f/n), the Roman Empire conquered Lusitania!" he announced sorrowfully; after so much time resisting, the lusitans had fall.

"Let go of me, you have no right to do this!" yelled (f/n), struggling against the ropes that bounded her under the amused eyes of her captors.  
"You were-a being-a difficult!" stated the Roman general. "We-a had no option!" his last sentence caused a long string of curses to left the female's mouth.  
"What are you-a going to-a do? You're-a just a pretty face-a!" mocked one of the centurions, forcefully lifting her chin up and causing a growl to erupt from her throat.  
"Let-a her go!" everyone turned to face the voice's owner, it was no other than Rome himself. "You-a can-a harass other women-a, but Lusitania is to-a join me-a, Iberia and-a Celt!"  
"Understood!" nodded the general as he watched the personification of the Empire helping the personification of their recent conquest up and started leading her to his tent.

"They're not here." stated bluntly the lusitan female as she entered the rather large tent.  
"No, they're-a with the-a other prisoners!" said Rome, taking off his red military cape.  
"Then why am I not with them?"  
"Do you-a really want to-a go back outside-a?" he wondered.  
"I could've dealt with them myself!" she growled, turning her face away from him.  
"It-a surely didn't-a look like-a it!" mused the male; the clinging sound of the pieces of his armor falling to the ground accompanied his voice.  
Startled by something suddenly brushing against her hands, (f/n) snapped her head around to come face to face with her captor.  
"What are you doing?" she demanded.  
"Calm-a down, I'm-a going to-a untie your-a hands." he answered, putting his hands up in a sign of peace. "I trust you-a won't-a run...?"  
The girl shook her head slightly, perfectly aware that there was no point in trying to do so. As soon as she felt the tight rope losing contact with her skin, she brought her hands to her chest and started rubbing her bruised wrists in a tentative to sooth the pain.  
"Thank you." she grumbled lowly.  
"My-a pleasure!" Rome chuckled before putting his hands on top of her shoulders and carefully leading her to a corner of the tent where an amount of animal fur was placed in the form of some kind of bed.  
"You-a can-a sleep here!" he announced. "I'll be right on the-a other side of the-a tent, they won't-a bother you if-a you-a sleep inside!"  
"How do I know you won't bother me too?" she remarked.  
"I-a wouldn't have-a taken you from-a them-a if I-a wanted to-a do anything to-a you!" he responded as he walked towards his own bed; confused by the male's actions, (f/n) merely shook her head before laying down, letting sleep take her to more peaceful lands.

The following morning was... How should I put it? Oh, yes, it was a pure mess!  
Having conquered the entire peninsula, the Romans were departing from this lands to return home; but it wasn't exactly the departure that was a mess, it was the preparations that were being incredibly confusing with people running, objects falling and flying everywhere around!  
Lusitania woke up with the loud sound of something falling; startled, she quickly got up on her feet and looked around the tent to see that Rome was nowhere to be seen inside, and so, curious to know what had produced such sound, she parted the curtains that were the tent's entrance and ventured outside. Realizing what all the commotion was about, she walked through the Roman camp, avoiding getting hit by the things that were passed from one side to the other, until she reached her destination, the place where the prisoners were.  
"(F/n)!" Crain called happily as he saw his good friend.  
"Crain!" she shot, running to hug her friend.  
"You're not bounded." a familiar male voice stated, coming from behind her; releasing her grip on the Celtic, she turned around to face her other good friend, the personification of the northern lands of the peninsula, Iberia, aka Crimnos.  
"W-well, yes... Rome untied me..." she confessed, gazing to the ground while shifting ever so slightly.  
"Rome? Are you trying to fool us?" asked Crain, raising an eyebrow along with Crimnos.  
"Yes, Rome, and no, I would never do that!" answered (f/n) with a light smile. "He untied me after saving me from being harassed..." she admitted. "That idiot actually has a heart!" stated Crain. "Who would've guessed?" his remark caused Iberia and a few of the nearby human prisoners to chuckle or bark with laughter.  
"You guys are so mean, he was actually a gentleman!" defended the young woman.  
"Rome, a gentleman!? What did you do to our beloved Lusitania?" remarked Crimnos.  
"Oh, shut it!" muttered (f/n), unable to suppress her playful smile as both males grinned back at her.  
As the three peninsular representatives joked, the preparations to the departure were finished.  
"It's time to-a go, get-a ready to-a walk!" announced the Roman general; approaching the captives, he noticed the girl's condition. "Who-a released you?" he demanded. (F/n) was about to answer her, but Rome intervened, pulling her to him and speaking up:  
"I-a did! And she is-a not walking, she-a is to-a come with-a me!"  
"But, she-a is a prisoner!" argued the general.  
"You're-a not going to-a make-a such a lovely young lady walk all the-a way back to-a Rome, are you-a?" mused Rome.  
"Do as you-a wish, sir." growled the general with his teeth gritted, turning around and stomping off to go and organize the army.  
"Come with-a me!" requested Rome, offering his hand to the girl who carefully slipped her hand on his under the menacing gaze of her fellow peninsular personifications. Crimnos and Crain watched as the Roman Empire dragged Lusitania away from them, in the direction of where the horses were.

"Need any help-a?" mused Rome as they now faced a big white mustang. (F/n) was about to decline his offer, but before any word could leave her mouth, she felt herself being lifted by the waist and being sit on top of the horse, the man climbing up to sit behind her immediately after.  
"I didn't need your help!" muttered angrily the lusitan woman as the roman grabbed the reigns of the horse, causing to girl to be caged between the animal and himself.  
"But that-a was faster, don't-a you-a agree?" he chirped happily; the girl merely pouted and decided to ignore him for as long as she could.  
The journey to Rome was long; Lusitania tried her best, but Rome's playful manner and appealing personality eventually got to her, and the girl, after one week, ended up warming up to the flirtatious male and, after the second week, she managed to convince him to cut the ropes bounding her friends so they could walk freely. The soldiers, if they had an opinion, did not express it, the general was clearly not happy at all about his superior's actions, the prisoners and the personifications of their lands were has happy as they could, finally being able to walk freely, and Rome, Rome seemed to be doing anything he could to keep (f/n) happy. Four more weeks passed, it was the last night they would spend camping, they should arrive to their destination the day after.

"Sssh, you'll scare him!" whispered (f/n), placing her hand on top of Rome's mouth to prevent him from speaking; With a light smile, she removed her hand and carefully, almost inaudibly, she stepped forward and towards the small animal that absently munched on a nut.  
"Hello little guy..." mused the girl, slowly reaching the animal with her hand. Acknowledging the female's presence, the light-brown furred squirrel put the whole nut in it's mouth before moving forward to sniff her hand; deciding that she wasn't a threat, the squirrel nuzzled her hand before quickly climbing on top of her lap. Lusitania silently called Rome, who carefully moved towards the girl and the squirrel.

Worried because they had no idea where Lusitania had disappeared to, Crain and Crimnos managed to escape the Roman warriors and to exit the camp in search for their friend. The two peninsular males eventually found the girl in the forest, they remained outside the clearing as they watched; sitting in the middle of the clearing were (f/n) and Rome, a nightingale sat on top of her head while other birds flew around alongside multicoloured butterflies and a group of squirrels ran around and climbed both humans, (f/n) laughed heartily at the male's attempts to not act awkwardly.  
"This is not right!" stated Crain.  
"And what do you propose we do?" uttered Iberia. "First, he hasn't done anything..."  
"Yet!" interrupted the southern male.  
"Let me finish!" reprehended Crimnos. "First, he hasn't done anything to her, not yet at least; second, even if he had, we have not the power to defy him! Just let them be, everything happens in it's due time!" he reasoned. "Whatever has to happen happens."  
"Are you actually telling me to leave that... that... (insert really nasty word here) to do as he pleases with her?" growled the celtic male.  
"I never said that..." warned Crimnos. "What I said is that we should leave Lusitania to decide her own limits, with whoever, even with him!" with this being said, he turned around and stalked off; Crain spared one last glance at the two people playing in the clearing before quickly following his iberian friend.

"You know...?" spoke the (h/c) head, catching the attention of her companion. "This almost feels as if I'm back home!" her face turning into one of sorrow.  
"Do you-a like-a flowers?" wondered Rome, scooting closer to her.  
"Of course!" she nodded while petting a squirrel absently. "Why do you ask?"  
"In this-a land, my land, there-a is a flower that is also-a common in your-a land!" responded the male, taking out a lavender and placing it in her hair; the sweet scent of the flower filled the air in the clearing, without taking notice, (f/n) stopped petting the squirrel as both she and Rome started leaning in, they were close, they could feel each other's breaths, their lips were mere millimeters away when the sound of a trumpet echoed, warning them that it was time to return to the camp. Snapping back to reality, the girl stumbled back up to her feet, quickly turning away from the male, she placed her on top of her chest and, with her head hanging low, she spoke:  
"W-we should go back to the camp" she started walking, her pace much faster than it normally was.  
"Sí, we-a should..." he nodded absently, following on her footsteps at a much slower pace. That night, the girl didn't sleep in the tent, having preferred to keep her bestfriends company.

It was the middle of the night... No matter how many turns she gave, she just couldn't sleep; unknowingly to her, all of her trashing around had woken her good friends up; trying to find out why was she like this, they waited before making themselves noticed...  
"What's wrong?" Iberia wondered, startling the girl who had thought them to be sound asleep.  
"W-what...?" she blinked dumbly.  
"What happened between you and the scumbag?" asked Crain, being much less polite than his northern friend.  
"Nothing!" stated (f/n). "Why would you think something happened between us?"  
"You are a terrible liar, (f/n)!" stated the iberian. "What happened?"  
"I... He... Uh... I told you, nothing happened!" she huffed.  
"Tell us, otherwise I'll rip the truth from that guy!" warned the celtic.  
"Fine!" she acceded. "I... He... He tried to kiss me..." she admitted.  
"What did you do? Slap him, kick him where it hurts...?" urged Crain, eager to know.  
"W-well..." she stuttered.  
"Lusitania!" warned the celtic, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he ignored Iberia's glare.  
"I-I didn't stop him..."  
"What? Why?" shot Crain.  
"I don't know, I-I guess I... I didn't want to stop him..." she confessed, her voice getting lower with each word.  
"What? Can't you speak louder?" complained the southern male, having been unable to hear what she said.  
"I wanted him to kiss me! Okay?" she declared, causing Crain to have a sudden coughing fit.  
"So..." urged Crimnos, earning a confused look from the female. "Why didn't he?"  
"I moved away..." she whispered as her eyes started to water.  
"And why did you move away?" asked Crimnos, pushing the girl a little more.  
"I was scared!" she cried, covering her mouth with her hands and closing her eyes tightly as tears started cascading down her (skin/tone) face; her northern friend taking her into a strong needed embrace. "I didn't know what to do, and then the trumpet sounded and I got and... and... I-I... I ran away!" she explained, hiccups pausing her speech ever so often. "I'm such an idiot, stupid...!"  
"No, you're not!" Iberia disagreed. "It's normal to be afraid, especially if you have no experience at all!"  
"A lavender!" Crain pointed out, taking the flower off the female's hair.  
(F/n) did nothing but give a simple nod to confirm her friend's assumption.  
"Where did you get it?" he inquired.  
"Rome!" she said, never retreating from Iberia's embrace. "He said... He gave it to me so I wouldn't miss home so much..." (f/n) explained, tears starting to well up once again; the celtic man seemed surprised at her statement.  
"You have no reason to be crying, if that's the case." stated Crain; Lusitania blinked her tears away so she could have a clear sight of the southern male. He smiled before continuing: "If he really did offer you this so you wouldn't miss home as much, that means he wants to see you happy and he wants you to stay by your own free will!" he finished, returning the lavender to the girl who took the flower back on her hands before taking it to her chest with a sigh of relief.  
"You'll see, time heals all!" Crimnos informed, brushing the girl's hair off her face. "Tomorrow, things between you and Rome will be mended. You'll see!"  
And so, comforted by her friends, she fell into a deep slumber for the night.

The waking up was rather agitated for everyone, the Romans were eager to return home after so much time away; the prisoners weren't so eager to be sold as slaves around the Empire. Crimnos and Crain didn't left their people, wanting to say their most likely last goodbyes.  
(F/n) took off from her friends' side in search for Rome, she didn't need to look around for long as, during the march, a horse appeared trotting beside her. Looking up, she saw Rome, he was smiling his usual goofy smile and stretching his hand down for her; not wasting a second, she took his hand and felt herself being lifted to sit behind him on top of the pure white mustang. Not wanting to fall, she placed her arms around his torso and leaned her head on his back as she felt the horse accelerating to reach the front of the army for, as you might guess, Rome had to be the first one entering the city that was the beautiful heart of the glorious empire.  
The entrance in the city was extremely ceremonious, Romans, both rich and poor, celebrated the arrival of their victorious warriors. Sooner than wished, they reached a gigantic residence, the emperor's palace. After they passed through the enormous gates, the warriors went their way, the prisoners were directed somewhere else, Crimnos and Crain were taken away, (f/n) went with Rome to the stables; with her companion's help, Lusitania got off the horse with no particular effort, the horse was taken away by a young boy and Rome lead her out of there.  
"Where are we going?" inquired (f/n), her curiosity getting the best of her.  
"We are going to-a see the-a emperor!" replied Rome, leading the girl through mazes of halls, rooms and balconies.  
The door that lead to the imperial room was huge, made of a hard and heavy wood; without asking for permission or an announcement, Rome barged in, the weapons pointing at him were quickly put down again.  
"Ah, my-a dear friend-a Rome! You are-a back!" chanted the emperor, walking forward to greet the personification of his land. "And-a with our last-a conquest, I-a see!" he added, eyeing voraciously the female that had used Rome's moment of distraction to move away from him to stand with her friends.  
"Hm?!" he blinked, confused for a moment before realizing what the other man was talking about. "Uh, yes, our-a last-a conquest...!" he agreed.  
"Are you-a going to-a tell me-a who they are-a?" asked the emperor.  
"Yes, of-a course!" nodded Rome, their conversation had caught the attention of the three peninsular regions. "The-a tallest of-a the-a three is Iberia, the-a north of the-a peninsula; the-a more-a tanned man is-a Celt, the-a south; and the-a girl is-a Lusitania, the-a centre and the-a litoral!" he presented.  
"And may I-a assume that-a the-a north gave you a stronger resistance to-a the-a conquest?" the peninsular males smiled lightly at this while the female giggled softly.  
"You-a may do that-a, but your assumption will be-a dead-a wrong!" answered Rome, chuckling at the emperor's face. "It was-a Lusitania that-a offered more resistance, she gave us quite a load of-a problems!"  
"The-a girl?!" echoed the emperor, raising an eyebrow as he seized the female with his gaze.  
Feeling uncomfortable, (f/n) shifted lightly and stepped closer to her friends, but despite her body language, she glared fiercely at the Roman leader.  
"I-a like-a her!" laughed the man. "She seems-a stubborn, I-a think we should-a enjoy a fight of-a her against one of-a our gladiators, I'm-a sure it would-a be-a fun!" hearing this, Crain and Crimnos both stepped in front of their friend while Rome quickly brushed off the idea.  
"I don't-a think it-a is a good idea!" Rome disagreed. "What would the-a people say if you-a put a girl in the-a arena to-a fight a gladiator? If you-a want to-a see a fight like-a that-a, why not-a use one of the-a prisoners?"  
"You might-a be right-a! I can't-a send a woman to-a fight in the-a arena!" acceded the emperor. " We will-a send some of the-a defeated warriors you-a brought to-a train to-a be gladiators!" he announced proudly; noticing the three peninsular representatives distracted with their own discussion, the leader of the empire motioned for Rome to get closer, the personification was quick to do as he was told.  
"Take your-a new friends to-a get ready, we can't-a have them-a looking like some-a sort of-a beggars in an official... meeting, can-a we?" whispered the emperor.  
"I'll take-a care of-a that-a!" assured Rome. With this, they left the room; the peninsular regions were separated once again, Crain and Crimnos were taken by Rome while (f/n) was left with a few female servants who only said to have the order to dress her up.  
The lusitanian tried to shoo the other women away, but no avail, they had her cleaned and ready before it was lunch time. They had dressed her in a light (f/c) roman dress with silver details, silver strings also decorated her (h/l) (h/c) hair that was pulled up in an intricate bun.  
She was soon lead to where the three men were, all the three wore typical roman garments, long and white with coloured cloths.  
"You look-a wonderful, Lusitania!" chirped Rome, taking her hand in his and making her perform a small turn.  
"I feel weird..." stated the girl, shifting due to the light clothing, she was used to heavier clothes.  
"You look great, I'm sure you'll get used to the feeling!" shot Crain, patting the female's cheek softly.  
"I hope so..." she muttered with her teeth gritted.  
"Trust him, he's right!" assured Crimnos, placing a soft kiss on her forehead, she returned with a peck on his cheek.  
"Let's-a go now!" announced Rome, starting to walk down a corridor. Lusitania rushed to his side, taking his arm; the peninsular males calmly followed them.  
"Where are we going?" wondered (f/n) as they walked.  
"We are-a going to-a attend an orgy at the-a emperor's request!" Rome replied.  
"What is an orgy?" inquired Lusitania, not being familiar with the Roman way of life.  
"U-uh..." he hesitated. "I-it's-a a celebration, typical from the-a Roman high society!"  
"What kind of celebration?" demanded Iberia, picking up on the Roman's nervousness.  
"The-a kind to-a which I'd rather not-a take an innocent girl to-a!" confessed Rome.  
"What?" blinked (f/n), not understanding what he meant.  
"Then why are you taking her?" asked Crimnos.  
"It was-a that or leave-a her alone in this-a place to-a fend for her own-a. Because even if she-a didn't go, the-a two of-a you-a still needed to-a go!" informed the Roman.  
"In that case, it's best to keep her close." agreed the iberian, obtaining a nod from both Crain and Rome.  
"What are you boys talking about?" whined (f/n); obtaining a mere 'it's nothing' from Iberia, a small pat on the head from Celt and a small kiss on the top of her head from Rome. They continued on their way with Lusitania pouting cutely while the three men talked openly with each other; Rome wasn't paying her attention at all, and she wasn't finding it funny. They finally reached a large door, music and loud voices were heard from the inside of the room. Entering the room, (f/n)'s eyes widened and her grip on Rome's arm tightened suddenly; she wasn't exactly expecting to see women dancing around with close to no clothing at all while men drank and talked and flirted with the females with no limits.  
"Are you-a okay?" wondered Rome, his voice low. Afraid of her voice betraying her, the lusitanian nodded nervously, refusing to loosen her suffocating grip that didn't even seem to bother the Roman personification.  
Keeping the girl close to him with Crimnos and Crain hot on their heels, Rome lead the way to where the emperor was.  
"My-a friends, there you-a are!" greeted the head of the empire.  
"Sí, here you-a have us!" Rome greeted back.  
"Join us, join us!" commanded the emperor. "Eat, drink, have-a fun!"  
The two peninsular males disappeared to find somewhere relatively peaceful to sit while eating; Rome was emerged in his conversation with the man that was the leader of the land he represented. Catching the glimpse of a familiar face, Lusitania got distracted and, almost unconsciously, moved away from where Rome was and the opposite way where Crain and Crimnos had went to; she continued forward, until the familiar face turned clear.  
"Galia!" she shot, running up to said female and throwing her arms around her in a hug.  
"Lusitania!" she called out of surprise, hugging her friend back. "What are you doing 'here?"  
"Rome conquered the peninsula!" (f/n) responded with a smile. "It's so good to see you!"  
"When did you arrive?"  
"Today, early in the morning!"  
"Don't tell me you're alone?!" chuckled the gaulese.  
"Not really, Crain and Crimnos are somewhere around here!"  
"Really...?" exclaimed excitedly the blond woman. "Celt is 'ere?"  
"Yes, and I'm pretty sure he'd love to see you!" mused the (h/c) head, sending a playful wink at her friend.  
"Oh, shut it..." muttered the northern female, blushing profusely.  
"Alright, alright!" giggled the lusitanian. "Tell me something, Giselle... What is your opinion of Rome?" wondered the (h/c) head, her mind drifting back to the well-build amber-eyed male.  
"Rome~?" mused the blond. "Oh, yes, he is an eccentrique, loud, childish and idiotique flirt!" she stated, before one of her eyebrows rised. "Why do ask?"  
"W-well... I-it's nothing, really..." replied the shorter female.  
"You're a terrible liar, my friend!"  
"Why would you think I'm lying?" muttered the (e/c) eyed girl, averting her gaze from her friend as if to hide something.  
"Oh!" exclaimed the blue eyed female, taking her hands up to cover her mouth. "You like 'im, don't you?"  
"Sssh, don't be so loud!" reprehended the southern female as a wave of giggles surged through Giselle.  
"What are you-a lovely ladies talking about-a?" mused a different voice; the girls turned towards the source of the sound to come face to face with two Roman legionaires.  
"What do you want?" demanded the personification of Galia, keeping a straight face.  
"We only want to-a have a bit of-a fun!" the other Roman stated.  
"This is an-a orgy after all...~" mused the first one.

Lusitania had disappeared a while ago, and Rome had been looking for her ever since he managed to flee his emperor's conversation. He looked all around the room; Crain and Crimnos, who had noticed the panicked Roman, decided to help him looking. The iberian ended up going one way while the celtic and the empire went the other way.  
After a while more looking, the two saw (f/n) and Giselle being dangerously approaches by two warriors, centurions from their armors. Rome and Crain quickly rushed to their side, right in time to hear:  
"We only want to-a have a bit of-a fun!" "This is an-a orgy after all...~"  
"That-a doesn't mean every woman is for your-a entertainment!" Rome's voice startled the two officers, who were fast to disband at the sight of the personification.  
"Celt!" exclaimed the blond woman, running up to him..."  
"Galia!" he shot, taking the girl into a strong hug. Talking, they eventually strolled away from the other two.  
"Come with-a me!" requested Rome, offering Lusitania his hand; the girl was quick to agree and place her hand on his. Gripping her hand to make sure they wouldn't part, he lead her out of that awful room where very intimate scenes happened in public and lead her to a small garden on the outside of the building but still inside the property.  
"What are you doing? Aren't we supposed to be there?" asked (f/n).  
"I am-a getting you-a away from-a there-a!" replied Rome with a chuckle. "Getting you-a out of-a that-a improper environment..."  
"And couldn't you have just dropped me in my room?" wondered the lusitanian.  
"No, because we have-a something to-a finish..." answered the Roman.  
"What is it?" she inquired.  
"I talked to-a your friends, and for-a all I-a know, I'm-a not the-a only want to-a finish this!" he mused, leaning closer and closer to her as his fingers intertwined with hers.  
"I-i..." she stuttered, blushing a dark shade of red as she realized what he was talking about, but a finger softly pressed to her lightly parted lips caused her voice to die down on her throat. She entered in a state of paralysis as his face got closer and closer to hers, a wave of shock surged through her once his lips touched hers, she soon started to return the kiss, entering a state of deep bliss. Parting away, her eyes were closed as he lovingly caressed her cheeks.  
"I have to-a tell you something..." he announced, the girl opened her eyes to look at him in wonder.  
"I have been-a meaning to-a tell you-a this for a while-a now, but you have-a taken my-a attention ever since I-a first laid eyes on-a you! With the-a time, my-a admiration grew, and all I can-a say now is that I-a love you, (f/n)!" he said.  
"I-i love you too..." she confessed, tears spilling from her (e/c) eyes as he embraced her and petted her (h/c) tresses.  
"That-a means you won't-a leave, will you-a?" Rome asked, worried all of a sudden.  
"Never!" she assured, giggling softly at his manners.


	4. Spider Germs (2P Germany)

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!" A loud shout echoed through the entire mannor, coming from one of the rooms. In that same room, a (h/c) haired girl shakily walked backwards, hr eyes never leaving the small black eight-legged being as it walked around the room. She shook like a leaf as she noticed the arachnid getting closer to her, another yell erupted from her throat: "HELP, HELP, IT'S GOING TO KILL MEEEEEEE!"

Finally, after a few more moments filled with panic, her bedroom's door shot open, revealing a large blond violet-eyed german male.

"Vhat is going on?" He growled.

"Lutz, help, please!" The female cried, lifting her eyes from the crawling animal to look at her boyfriend.

"Vhy are jou shouting like zhat?" He growled yet again, his patience was growing thin as he did not detect any kind of threat inside the room.

"There!" She shot, her finger pointing accusatively the spider that, millimeter by millimeter, was getting closer to her. A thick mark popped in the german's forehead.

"Jou vere shouting like zhat over a stupid spider?" He growled, turning on his heels, getting ready to abbandon the room.

"NO, LUTZ, DON'T LEAVE ME. IT'S GOING TO KILL ME!" In a matter of seconds, in the place previously occupated by the arachnid, you coud find a rather large hand instead.

"Zhere, no need to shout anymore." He stated. "Now, come!" Lutz said, stretching his hand out for the girl to take. Carefully eyeing the male, she shook her head violently.

"(F/n)!" He sighed in a warning tone, only to obtain another shake from her.

"I'm not touching you!" She stated bluntly.

"Vha-... vhy?" His patience was really reaching its limit.

"Not until you wash and disinfect that hand!" She informed. "I can deal with your weird fetishes, i can deal with the fact that you are a mass murderer, i can deal with you touch me when you're soaked in blood, i can even live with your extreme disorganization. But honestly, i'd rather eat Luciano's bloody pasta than having you touch me after you touched a spuder!" (F/n) announced, a remembering look suddenly crossed her features as she finally moved away from her safe corner. "Oh, i almost forgot... 'Luci asked me to help him getting rid of a body!"

The (h/c) head stopped just as she passed the german.

"I'd give you a kiss, but you have spider germs, so... see you later, sweety!" She said, skipping away to find the knife-lover italian, leaving behind a dumbfunded violet-eyed german.


	5. The Five Senses (America)

São belas - bem o sei, essas estrelas,

Mil cores - divinais têm essas flores;

Mas eu não tenho, amor, olhos para elas;

Em toda a natureza

Não vejo outra beleza

Senão a ti - a ti!

(They are beautiful - I know, those stars,

A thousand colours - divine have those flowers;

But I don't have, my love, eyes for them;

In all nature

I don't see beauty other

Than you - you!)

Her eyes, her hair, the colour of her skin, everything about her haunted his mind at the moment. His eyes watered as he remembered her.

He could only imagine her face when the news reached her. Would she be mad? Maybe. Would she be sad? Most likely...

Divina - ai! sim, será a voz que afina

Saudosa - na ramagem densa, umbrosa,

Será: mas eu do rouxinol que trina

Não oiço a melodia,

Não sinto outra harmonia

Senão a ti - a ti!

(Divine - oh! yes, will be the voice that tunes

Longing - in the dense, shady branches

Will be: but I from the nightingale that shakes a note

Don't hear the melody,

Nor do I feel harmony other

Than you - you!)

His eyes fluttered close as he remembered the sound of her voice.

He would often hear people talking about how nightingales had the most wonderful singing in the world; but, for Alfred, there was no sound more beautiful than his beloved's voice, every sound around him seemed to disappear while he listened to her voice.

Respira - n'aura que entre as flores gira,

Celeste - incenso de perfume agreste.

Sei... não sinto: minha alma não aspira,

Não percebe, não toma

Senão o doce aroma

Que vem de ti - de ti!

(Breath - in the aura that among the flowers twirls,

Heavenly - incense of rural perfume.

I know... don't feel: my soul does not inspire,

Does not get, does not take

Other than the sweet scent

That comes from you - from you!)

Here, laying on the dirt, the smell of blood, metal, sweat and gunpowder invaded his nostrils. The only thing coming to his mind about this was how different this smell was of her soft and sweet scent; he used to hug her and hide his face in her (h/c) hair just so he could feel the delicate scent he loved so much and that only she had.

Formosos - são os pomos saborosos,

É um mimo - de néctar o racimo:

E eu tenho fome e sede... sequiosos,

Famintos meus desejos

Estão... mas é de beijos,

É só de ti - de ti!

(Beautiful - are the savoury pomes,

It's a gift - of nectar the cluster:

And I am hungry and thirsty... avid,

Famished my wishes

Are... but of kisses,

Only from you - from you!)

His mind then wandered to the one thing that always made him feel as if he was in Heaven, the touch of her lips.

So many kisses had been shared, he had hoped to be many more to come; but now, he wouldn't be able to feel the feeling of her lips on his ever again, unless they could find each other on the after-life. More tears ran down his dirty cheeks.

Macia - deve a relva luzidia

Do leito - ser por certo em que me deito.

Mas quem, ao pé de ti, quem poderia

Sentir outras carícias,

Tocar noutras delícias

Senão em ti - em ti!

(Soft - must the glittering grass

Of the bed - in which I lay for certain be.

But who, close to you, who could

Feel other caresses,

Touch other delicacies

Than you - you!)

After a while, he couldn't feel how hard the ground he was laying on was. He only hoped he could still feel her soft skin with his rough hand; he wanted to caress her cheeks and pet her hair soothingly, but that was not possible, not anymore.

A ti! ai, a ti só os meus sentidos

Todos num confundidos,

Sentem, ouvem, respiram,

Em ti, por ti deliram.

Em ti a minha sorte,

A minha vida em ti;

E quando venha a morte,

Será morrer por ti.

(To you! oh, only to you do my senses

All in one confused,

Feel, hear, breath,

In you, for you delirious.

In you is my luck,

My life is in you;

And when death comes,

It will be death for you.)

Even at this moment, all he could think, feel, smell and taste was her.

His life had always been dedicated to her and her well-being; this would be his last breath, but, at least, he knew his death hadn't been in vain, (f/n) could continue her life free of the control of England.

His life had been for her, as had his death.

With his last breath, he murmured: "Forgive me, for not surviving... I love you, (f/n)!" And so he died, with his beloved in his mind.

Weeks later, through all the cities a different new spread. It was the front page of all journals: in front of the grave of the remarkable american corporal Alfred F. Jones, who had died during the Revolutionary War, was found the dead body of (f/n) (l/n), his fiance before he died, the engagement ring still on her finger.

Now, in Heaven, two souls reunited; they had always been together in life, it would be no different in death!

Poem: "Os cinco sentidos" by Almeida Garrett


	6. The 'why's of Love (Prussia)

Céu, porque tão convulso e consternado

Me bate, ao vê-la, o coração no peito?

Porque pasma, entre os beiços congelado,

Indo a falar-lhe, o tímido conceito?

(God, why so agitated and beaten

Beats, at her sight, the heart in my chest?

Why it stops, frozen between the lips,

Starting to speak to her, the shy concept?)

It had happened again, even though it was the first time happening during a world meeting, the words had gotten stuck in his his throat, unable to come out.

Everytime he'd try to talk to her, his heart started to beat faster, faster than he thought possible, faster than he believed to be healthy.

"Gilbert!" Her voice echoed on his ears, the concern about his frozen state clearly showing. "Are you okay?" She asked, waving a hand in front of the male's ruby coloured eyes.

Prussia blinked, he was surprised at himself, he couldn't be his usual loud self around (country), no matter how much he tried. But why? He knew the answer, even if he wasn't able to admit it.

"Ja!" He answered, quietly returning to his seat, on the opposite table, near his best friends, Antonio and Francis.

Porque nas áureas ondas engolfado

Da caudalosa trança, inda que afeito,

Me naufraga o juízo embelezado,

E em ternura suavíssima desfeito?

(Why does in the golden waves absorbed

Of the long tress, even if accostumed,

My adorned judgement sink

And in suave tenderness comes undone?)

Her (h/c) (h/l) hair, he had lost himself yet again, thinking of how it would be like to caress her hair softly with his rough hand. Maybe the tresses of (h/c) hair could soft his skin as his hands ran through it. He had always imagined the touch of her hair as soft as the touch of a feather, if not more.

Around him, Gilbert coukd hear France and Spain talking, probably scheeming again; he didn't pay them any attention, not even to the small yellow bird chirping worriedly while flying around his head.

A sigh escaped the male's lips.

Porque a luz de seus olhos, tão activa,

Por lânguida inda mais encantadora,

Me cega, e por a ver, ansiosa, clamo?

(Why does the light of thy eyes, so active,

For languid even more enchanting,

Blind me, and for see her, anxious, I cry?)

He had now caught her eyes, he couldn't divert his gaze away, he was too entranced in the pools of (e/c). Even when she noticed his stare, he did not turn away; only finding himself more and more lost in the (e/c) orbs.

Possibly a bit too self-conscious, he couldn't be sure, a heavy blush spread itself on the (skin/colour) cheeks as (f/n) turned her gaze to the papers resting on the table in front of her. Her change didn't pass unnoticed by Taiwan and Hungary, who were sitting on each side of (country); the german observed with a light smile tugging on his lips as the other females playfully teased the (nationality).

His own behaviour didn't go unnoticed by his best friends. Antonio and Francis had their share of fun teasing him about his strange manners whenever he was around (f/n).

Porque da mão nevada sai tão viva

Chama, que me electriza e me devora?

Os mesmos meus 'porquês' me dizem: - Amo!

(Why does from the snowy hand comes so alive

Flame, that electrizes and devours me?

My same 'whys' tell me: - I love!)

The meeting had come to an end. In the prussian's head, he thought he was pitiful; even with his well-known personality, he couldn't say a word to the one person it really mattered to him.

His friends were already outside of the building, waiting for him to join them.

As he was about to exit the room someone grabbed his arm, the touch sent a spark shooting through his body; he knew exactly who had stopped him from continuing on his way outside, only the touch of one person gave him such a sensation, her touch.

"Why do you not talk to me anymore?" The tone of her voice sent a wave of guilt through the german; her voice was trembling, almost as if she could burst in tears at any moment.

His gaze was fixed on the floor, he really believed he wasn't able to answer; but that belief of his suddenly crashed as the girl's soft sobs and crying reached his ears. She tried to run away, but his hand caught her arm and pulled her into his arms, into a warm embrace.

This was the time, he knew it; with all the courage he could muster, he finally spoke the words he had been holding in for so long. He leaned closer to her ear. He whispered to her how her hair always entranced him like the waves of the sea he loved to sail; how her eyes were always so deep and full emotions, and how he could get lost in them for days, if not more; how her touch ignited such a powerful spark in him, causing the feeling of a flame shooting through his body, warming his whole being; how the mere sight of her could cause him to loose all his courage and boldness, but also could replenish his strenght and make him believe everything to be possible. And, finally, he spoke the words that had been haunting him for years...

"I love!" He stated. "I love you!"

This poem is a portuguese one.

Original title: "Os porquês do amor"

Translated title: "The 'whys' of love"

Author: José Anastácio da Cunha


	7. What an idiot is (Romano)

"Oh, come on Lovi, it can't be that bad~!" A (h/c) head interjected as she played with the fork.

"Don't-a even think about-a it-a, ragazza. I'm-a not going to-a eat that!" Responded the italian male.

"But why?" She pouted.

Now, maybe this deserves an explanation...

The day had been great, until a rather strange idea crossed (f/n)'s mind, that is. It wasn't unusual for her to have weird ideas, but this one was the worst so far, or, a least, at her boyfriend Lovino's eyes it was...

The south italian male had been watching a film with (f/n), when she suddenly got up from the sofa and went to the kitchen, leaving him behind. A few minutes after, she called him to the kitchen. And now she was trying to get him to eat the suspicious mixture she had created after a creative impulse.

"What the-a hell did you-a even put in-a there?" Asked Romano, carefully eyeing the weird looking syrup that was splayed all over the raw tomato that had been carefully sliced.

"Nothing much, really..." mused the girl. "Just some meat, a few vegetables... and a couple of more things that you don't need to know about!"

The male's eyebrow twitched at the weird mix in front of him that had suspiciously started to bubble.

"I'm-a not eating that!" He stated, stepping away from the bubbling food.

"Fine!" She huffed. "If you don't try it, i will!" She announced, getting ready eat a fork full of the mixture.

"Idiota, don't-a eat that!" Romano shot, snatching the fork from hs girlfriend's hand.

"Why?" She whined.

"That thing is-a bubbling, who knows if it-a can-a kill you-a or-a not!" He said as a matter of fact. "Idiota!" He breathed out, placing the fork down on the table.

"You know what...? Maybe i am!" (F/n) chuckled.

"What?" He wondered, blinking dumbly at the shorter female.

"An idiot, i mean!" She echoed. "Do you know what an idiot is, Lovi~?" The answer she obtained was a look that clearly seemed to say that she was going mental, along with a:

"An idiota is an idiota..."

"Wrong!" She giggled at his now confused expression. "An idiot is someone who has a lot of ideas!"

A smile tugged at the girl's lips as she watched the italian male through the corner of her eyes.

"Now..." she started once again. "Since you don't want to try it and don't let me try it, i'm going to get Arthur to try this thing out!" She blurted, quickly picking the plate up and running away before Romano could throw her invention away and to the thrash.


	8. 2P Canada

(F/n) peacefully strolled around the woods that surrounded the house she shared with her boyfriend Matt and his gigantic polar bear, with said polar bear following her around in order to 'protect her', how Matt put it. The large bear barely left her side, normally only doing so when he was to hunt or when his owner was around.  
"Kuma, come here!" she chanted, letting herself fall to her knees in a mount of snow, giggling as her scarf and hair flew around. Releasing a low growl, the bear heavily sat down close to her.  
"Oh, don't be like that." she mused, getting up to pet him softly. "You're starting to sound like your owner!"

How such a cheerful and innocent girl had ended up with the grumpy, merciless killer canadian was still a mistery to everyone, especially for said canadian's family, they weren't about to complain though, Allen always made jokes about their differences but he actually had fun trying to piss off the girl, François actually enjoyed her company as she was the only one who could actually keep quiet for more than 5 seconds, Oliver absolutely loved to talk to her and he was absolutely delighted as she always agreed to help him cooking, even though she ended up sick more often than not only by looking at some of his 'special ingredients'. Sometimes not even (f/n) herself knew why she loved the canadian, but she knew she did love him for sure; Matt, on the other side, knew exactly why he loved the (nationality) female, she was quite smaller than him, and probably the most cheerful person he knew (besides Oliver of course), they were clear opposites, but what he most loved about her was how she didn't judge him and how she loved him despite knowing how ruthless of a killer he was, she was also the only girl he knew that wasn't afraid of Kuma, and the only person other than him who Kuma had warmed up to.

With a huff, the (h/c) head let herself fall on top of the bear, nuzzling her face on it's white fur.  
"I wonder how much longer it'll take for him to get back...?" she muttered, she slowly drifted off to sleep as she laid on top of the fluffy white fur.  
Kuma remained alert as the time went by. (F/n) stayed asleep for almost the whole day, only waking up when the sky had already acquired tones of pink and purple.  
She softly rubbed her eyes as she pulled her face away from the warm fur.

Placing traps on the trees and on the ground, a group of 5 men walked around the forest with their shotguns and knives. They were talking.  
"Come on, you're a complete sissy if you think this place is all that dangerous!" one barked with laughter.  
"But, haven't you heard?" other asked, looking around.  
"Heard what?" demanded a third one.  
"If you see a girl or a polar bear in this forest, you have to run. Apparently there's a someone in here who hunts down and kills every poacher they find!" informed the only one who apparently knew of this stories.  
"Bah, scary stories!" shot a fourth poacher. "But that's easy to solve. If we happen to see a girl or a polar bear, we just need to shoot them dead!"  
"He's right! No need to worry, eh?" snickered a last man.

A low growl reverberated through the large animal's body as it raised it's bloodshot eyes to look towards the barrier of bushes that served them as a cover.  
"What is it, Kuma?" voiced the female, a snicker echoed on her ears and heavy steps seemed to get closer and closer. Petting the bear's head to ease him, she could hear, not one, but several pairs of feet walking through the snow, she could also hear them talking about poaching techniques and about how they'd shoot any girl or polar bear that crossed their sight; this last part caused a louder growl to erupt from the bear, her eyes widened as she realized that they had heard Kuma and that they were now running on their direction.

"I'm sure it came from here!" stated one of the men, pointing a clearing that was surrounded by thick bushes covered by snow.  
"What do you think it is?"  
"Who knows..."  
"Maybe it's a polar bear!"  
"And a girl!"  
Laughter erupted from the group of men as they cut their way through the bushes, only to be faced with a strange vision...  
"Well, well, well, seems like the rumours weren't all that false after all!" one mused as they all observed an enormous polar bear, standing tall with a young woman half-hidden by it's gigantic body.  
"Someone who is actually able to survive an encounter with such beast and make out without a scratch and without a gun..." mused one other.  
One of the poachers shot a bullet into the air, causing the female to whimper in fear and the polar bear to roar menacingly at him.  
Laughter erupted from the older poacher as he shot one of the bear's legs and pointed his shotgun at the shaking girl.  
"Don't move, girlie, while we take care of this beast, or I'll put a bullet in your brain!" he menaced.  
Her eyes widened as her gaze travelled to the injured animal; shaking, she ran up to the bear and positioned herself in front of the limping animal.  
"I-I won't let you hurt Kuma!" she shot, her body trembling like a leaf just like her voice. A grin stretched itself on the older poachers face, positioning his gun, he shot a bullet that scratched the girl's cheek.  
"The next will be aimed at your head!" he warned. "Step aside!"  
Tears ran down (skin/tone) cheeks as shock and panic kept her from moving an inch.  
"Matt, where are you?" she whispered. "Matt, we need help..."

Not far, patrolling the woods on his way back home, Matt heard the sound of shooting. Narrowing his eyes dangerously, the canadian male quickened his pace, running towards the place from where the sound had came. He reached the clearing right in time to see a poacher shooting Kuma's paw and (f/n)'s soft cheek, but he wouldn't let these men go any further; distracted with the girl and the bear, the illegal hunters didn't even notice the Canadian approaching.  
"The next will be aimed at your head! Step aside!" ordered the older of the males, causing a certain someone's eyes to glare daggers.  
A strong punch and the man was sent to the ground. Matt ignored the whimpering male and the shocked poachers as he walked up to his girlfriend and his pet and placed a hand on top of the girl's head.  
"Are you okay?"  
(F/n)'s eyes shot open at the sound of the oh-so-familiar voice.  
"Matt!" she exclaimed, lunging forward to hug his torso, tears of relief falling from her (e/c) eyes. Being himself, not wanting to show much affection in public, he returned the hug just slightly.  
"Protect yourself behind Kuma and keep your eyes closed!" demanded the canadian, leading her closer to the bear; with a prompt nod, she was quick to do as she was told, knowing exactly what was about to happen, having witnessed a similar scene before and not wishing to do so again any time soon. Her eyes were closed tightly and the hum of a song left (tone) lips as she cuddled against the injured animal's side, but, even so, she could hear shots, shouts and the swing of Matt's hockey stick as he talked, and it wasn't hard to imagine what was happening, especially also having the occasional sound of a heavy body falling to the snow.  
Minutes later, she felt herself being carefully lifted bridal-style.  
"Keep them closed!" Matt ordered once he noticed that the girl was about to open her eyes, before turning to the polar bear: "Lets go, Kuma, back home!"  
With a light whine disguised with a low growl, the large animal heavily stood up and limped after his owner.  
Minutes passed as they walked with nothing but the wind and the sound one or other animal moving echoing in their ears, it was peaceful, to say the least; the girl was slowly being lulled to sleep as her boyfriend carried her.  
"Matt..." she called. "Can I open my eyes now?"  
"Do whatever you want to." his reply came.  
Refusing to be taken by sleep, she fluttered her eyes open and looked over the canadian's figure. He seemed to be okay, he wasn't limping and his face was as stoic as ever but, as she analysed his face, despite all the blood spatters, she could notice quite a few wounds, some more as she observed his arms and chest. Taking her hand to his chest, she ran her hand over a particularly large gash (probably caused by a knife or something of the kind) and stated:  
"You're hurt..."  
"It's just a few scratches." he muttered.  
"This isn't JUST a scratch, and you know it!" she disagreed, a deep frown taking over her features.  
"Fine, eh! It's not a scratch, it's a cut. I'll take care of it once we get back, but don't do that!" he said.  
"Do what?" she asked, blinking in surprise at his little outburst.  
"Don't frown!" he demanded; a giggle was elicited from the girl. "What's so funny?" he growled.  
"N-nothing! Now, I won't frown IF you let me take care of those wounds!" she conditioned.  
"Alright, alright, whatever you want!" he sighed.  
"Yay!" she cheered, throwing her arms around his neck and showering his cheek with kisses before jumping from his grasp and running inside to get everything ready.  
Flushed , the tall canadian followed the most unlikely person to love him inside, quickly being followed by his uncommon pet.


	9. Infestations (Netherlands)

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHH A MOUSE!"  
"I'm going to get the venom." sighed Tim, walking away from the chair that (country) was using as a safe spot from the small beings that had invaded the garage.  
"But that'll kill them!" she complained. "AND you'll be abandoning me!"  
"I thought you wanted to get rid of them!" he stated with an eyebrow twitching ever so lightly.  
"I do, but I don't want to kill them!" pouted the girl, carefully balancing herself on top of the chair.  
"Then what do you want?" inquired the blond.  
"I don't know! Do I look like a plague controlling expert?" snarled the (nationality). "Aren't there traps for mouses that don't hurt the poor things?"  
"Yes, but they're more expensive than the mortal ones." he stated as a matter of fact.  
"So what?"  
"They're more expensive!"  
"I don't care!"  
"If I go buy those traps, I'll have to leave you with the mouses; I have the mortal traps and the venom in the storage." he half-suggested, but no avail.  
"Pick me up!" (country) ordered.  
"What?"  
"I told you to pick me up!" repeated the (h/c) head. With a sigh, Netherlands did as he was told, but, nonetheless, inquired:  
"Why?"  
"Now that I'm no longer in a dangerous position, we shall go and buy the harmless traps!" she announced.

~It's easier for the sea to be completely calm for an entire day than make a woman budge from her position.~

"Why do I put up with you?" sighed the dutch in a low tone.  
"Because~ you love me!" chirped the girl.


	10. Aljubarrota (Spain)

(F/n) (l/n) was a young girl; she was born in Portugal during troubled times. When she was just 5 years old, her father died battling and, not long after, her mother also died, due to a depression because of her husband's death.  
With the death of her parents, (f/n) moved to Spain where she stayed with her father's cousins. She lived in the Spanish country for quite a few years; during her time in Spain, she made a friend, it was just one friend (spanish people didn't seem too fond of portuguese people), he was a boy, around her age, with brown hair, deep green eyes and tanned skin, his name was Antonio. Antonio revealed to be a great friend, and he and (f/n) grew closer and closer as the years passed, close enough to fall in love, but one day...  
(F/n) was old enough to fend for herself, and so, she had to leave, return to her country, Portugal, leaving her bestfriend behind. Although, Antonio did not let her go without the promise that they would see each other again and the promise that, when they did reunite, the love confessions they had been hiding from her family would be announced louder and with an official ceremony.  
Years would pass before the two were permitted to see each other again... And it would not be in the best way...

\- 1385 -

In a small village of the portuguese kingdom, the life carried on, but fear was a constant factor with the eminence of a spanish attack. This village was called Aljubarrota, it was the place where (f/n) had been born and it was the place she had returned to after leaving Spain.  
(F/n) had grown into a beautiful young woman; many bachelors had tried to propose to her, but the (h/c) head always declined their requests, she hadn't forgot Antonio and still had hope that he would keep loyal to what he had promised her.

It was a sunny day and (f/n) was now making her way to the bakery, always playing with the golden pendant Antonio had presented her with years ago. Reaching the store, she entered and called out:  
"Good morning, D. Brites!"  
"Good morning, my dear!" responded the older woman. "Come on in, the bread is almost ready!"  
"Thank you... How is your day?" wondered the girl, walking closer to the woman.  
"Like usual!" she answered. "Are there any more news regarding the Spanish?"  
"Not that I know of..." answered the younger female. "I have yet to go see the guards today, but I'll warn you if I discover something!" she assured as the bread-maker delivered the girl her bread.  
"I'll be waiting for you then, come around later!" said the woman with a smile, leading the younger female to the door.  
"I will! See you later, D. Brites!" bid the girl, before running off to visit the post of the guards. The bread-maker smiled at the form of the running girl, going back inside as the girl disappeared in a corner.  
Skipping through the busy streets she went, offering a couple of words to everyone, in the direction of the post of the guard. The girl opened the building's door just as the sound of the alarm bells raised from the tower, echoing through the village and the lands around.  
"(F/n)..." a portuguese warrior breathed out, having almost knocked her down as he ran to the outside. The dark-haired male grasped her shoulder and said: "Don't stay here, hide!"  
"Why... I mean, what's going on?" wondered the girl in a worried tone.  
"The spanish army is coming this way!" warned an older warrior who had appeared from behind the younger male. "I recommend you to hide, my dear!"  
"Oh, alright..." she nodded, before running off, making the fastest way to her house while making sure to pass by D. Brites' house to warn her of the news. The older woman was quick to scurry the girl off, telling her to go home and lock down every possible entrance to prevent the enemies to go inside.  
An hour had passed since (f/n) had locked her door and windows, when the first echoes of metallic blades meeting reached her ears. Hours slowly passed by with occasional bumps against the outside of her house startling her and the loud sounds of battling.  
The day went by slowly, and (f/n) only opened her door and venture outside only long after the nightfall, long after the sounds of the battle had subsided to the night sounds and the not so far away sound of music and laughter, the people were undoubtingly celebrating the unexpected victory. The female carefully walked through bodies splayed all around, bodies from both sides; she gave small steps as she avoided corpses, blood pools and lost weapons, she didn't touch nor approach anything nor anyone, until, that is, she found herself in a mostly unpredictable situation...  
(F/n) stopped on her tracks as the dark figure crawled towards her, obviously a wounded soldier, spanish or portuguese she did not know, but she couldn't leave the man in there in such state, besides, even if he was from Spain, no one in the village had to know.  
"Help..." the faint word coming from the male's mouth brought the girl back to reality as he collapsed; hurrying, in fear of someone seeing her, she helped the man to get up and, always supporting him, she lead him to her house. Entering the small building, she dropped him in one of the beds and quickly grabbed a bowl of water, an old cloth and a few bandages.  
Kneeling down next to the now fainted man, she carefully tore his shirt open and started to clean the several cuts and bruises that adorned his torso and arms, making sure not to wake him as she bandaged him with utmost care.  
"Thank you." the voice echoed in her ears, it would seem that her efforts to not wake him were in vain.  
"I hope so, I'm dead if they find that I'm nursing the enemy!" she huffed, continuing her work.  
"Then, why are you?" he wondered, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched her playing with her golden pendant before responding:  
"I... Well, it's a long story..." she sighed, her eyes closing tightly as she tried to repress emotions and old memories.  
"We have time!" assured the spanish, taking the old cloth in his hands to clean his face from what dirt and blood was in there; his voice sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite put a finger to it.  
"I..." she took a deep breath. "I loved a man, I still do. He is of spanish ascendancy, I don't think I could leave one of his people to their luck, not if I can help it..."  
"When was the last time you saw him?" inquired the warrior.  
"It was years ago, I remember it as if it was yesterday. I came back to my country with his promise of love and that we would see each other again!" blurted the (h/c) head, an unreadable look crossed the male's face, but he wasn't permitted to talk as his savior carried on: "You probably think I'm a foolish girl, all this years I haven't seen or heard anything from him, I know all the fame about your people being enchanting lovers, and yet I still have hope and trust that he will keep his promises to me!" she cried out, letting herself fall to her knees as tears spilled from her (e/c) orbs.  
"How dumb can I get? I should have accepted one of those proposals, but now it's too late; and to make matters worse he probably doesn't even recall my existence!" she blurted.  
"Maybe he does love you, but hasn't been able to come yet..." offered the spanish.  
"What would you know?" growled the female. "You don't know anything!"  
"I know more than you think, (f/n)!" assured the warrior; his voice, firmer than before, caught her attention.  
"Wh... How do you know..." her gaze moved up and she finally took notice of his features. "...my name..." she ended with a whisper; more and more tears assaulted her eyes as she recognised the one she had been waiting for for years...  
"ANTONIO!" she screeched, getting up and stumbling towards him.  
"Sí, I'm finally here..." he nodded, taking her smaller form into a loving embrace during which he buried his face in her (h/c) tresses, murmuring words of love, while she buried her face in his chest, crying her heart out and hearing his sweet words in her ear.  
"I'm so sorry for not coming before, and when I finally come is in this conditions..." he apologised, gently rocking her from one side to the other in his arms.  
"I don't care about the conditions, the only thing I care about is that I can finally be with you again!" (f/n) muttered.  
"Are you sure about that?" Antonio mused, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly.  
"About what?" she echoed.  
"Are you sure that you don't care about the conditions of my arrival?" he reformulated.  
"What do you mean?" she wondered.  
"I am here with you now, but you know that I, being from Spain, cannot be caught here! I will have to leave!" his statement caused a frown to take over his lover's expression, his face not exactly mirroring any sign of happiness either. After a few moments of thought, looking deeply into his green eyes, the female spoke up, breaking the uncomfortable silence:  
"I'll go with you!" she stated, before her voice adopted a pleading tone as she, once more, voiced her thoughts. "Please, Antonio, let me go back to Spain with you. Please... "  
Looking into her (e/c) orbs, he looked for any sign that he could persuade her to stay, but he found none. And so, with a sigh, he talked:  
"If you go, you probably won't be able to come back to Portugal." he warned.  
"I know..." she whispered, lacing her fingers with his. "And I want to go."  
"B-but this is your home, I can't take away from the place where you belong!" he reasoned.  
"You're wrong!" she responded. "The place where I belong is the place where my love is, the place where my heart is. True, my place is Portugal, it will always be my nation, my home and it will always be a part of me; but it is also true that the actual place where I am meant to be is the place where my soul and my heart are, and that place is where my love is, where you are. I belong in Spain, with you..." her logic left the man dumbfounded, he couldn't argue with something he agreed to.  
"Alright, we'll leave as soon as you feel ready to, before the morning rises!" Antonio said, obtaining a nod from the girl who quickly, with his help, packed everything.  
An hour was left to the sunrise, when they left the house; the streets were filled with the people just now leaving the celebrations of their victory against the spanish, the two lovers would have to be careful if they wanted to escape. Swiftly, (f/n) and Antonio moved around the busy streets, successfully avoiding any unwanted attention.  
As they made it to the security of the woods, (f/n) leaned on a trunk, tired of all the running.  
"We did it!" she breathed out.  
"Yes, we did!" he chuckled.  
"We could have gotten ourselves killed, but we did it. We really did it!" she chirped, throwing her arms around the male's torso.  
"Sí, we really did..." echoed the spanish, returning his beloved's embrace. Their eyes met and both started leaning in, their lips met in a sweet oh-so-awaited kiss; their loving moment was interrupted by a shout that erupted from the village of Aljubarrota:  
"They took (f/n)!" "Start looking!"  
"We have to go now!" urged Antonio, taking the girl's hand in his and starting to pull her along with him.  
The two lovers took off running deeper into the woods, deeper into the peninsula, in the direction of their true home, towards the start of their new life, to the place where they could always be together, even in the afterlife.


	11. Love Potion (Pirate England)

(F/n) was a young woman who, for a few years now, had been working in a pirate crew, under the command of the famous british captain Arthur Kirkland. She had a friendly relationship with every crew member; but none of them knew about 2 little secrets: first, she had known the captain all her life, having grown in the same place as him; second, just like the captain, she knew quite a few magical spells.  
Over the years, as they both grew up, her feelings for the blond man evolved, they evolved faster and further than she would like to admit; one day, despairing due to her ignorance about his feelings, she decided to use a slightly different method to guarantee that she was the target of his affection...

A certain night, she didn't get a wink of sleep as she put her plan in action; the following morning she resumed to her daily tasks. The first thing she did was the captain's breakfast, but a new ingredient was added to the usual recipe, the ingredient she had been working on the whole night, a love potion; she put only a couple of drops in a single one of the small cakes, aware that it was enough.  
She exited the ship's kitchen with the tray of food on her hands. Unfortunately, on her way to Arthur's cabinet, she was faced with the worst of the obstacles:  
"Hey, lass, where are ya goin?" a male's voice echoed in her ears as said male threw an arm around her shoulders.  
"Allistor!" she greeted with her teeth gritted as she acknowledged the presence of the older Kirkland. "I am going to deliver the captain his breakfast!" she sighed, fully aware that he was too stubborn to leave before getting an answer.  
"Why don't ya call 'im Arthur? Ya've known each other for years!" insisted the red head once again, like every day ever since she joined the crew.  
"I told you many times already, he is the captain of this ship, he deserves at least a little bit of respect!" reprehended the girl, carefully balancing the tray on her hand.  
"Fine!" huffed the Scottish, turning away while grabbing a cake from the tray; the female's eyes widened as she realized which cake he had picked up.  
"NO, ALLISTOR! WAIT!" she called, letting the tray fall to the ground in a tentative to stop him from eating the small culinary confection; but no such luck, when he turned to face her again, the cake was already half down his throat.  
"Hey, (f/n), lass, what did ya put in this? I feel weird..." hearing his words, she gulped loudly, a thousand things went through her head as she searched her thoughts for the best solution for this. Not finding any definitive option, she followed her instinct; she quickly picked up the tray and hit the male's head with it, she then dropped the tray and ran away, hearing behind her the sound of Allistor's fainted body falling to the ground. She ran back inside the corridors of the ship and entered the first room she saw, locking the door behind her; she leaned her forehead on the door and let out a relieved sigh, muttering a low 'I'm safe'.  
"Safe from what?" the too familiar voice caused her to freeze as wave of shock coursed through her body.  
"C-captain!" she stuttered, instantly turning around and performing a light bow.  
"Oh, (f/n), 'ow many times do I 'ave to tell ya? Quit the formalities!" he said, shaking his head.  
"Right, will do, cap-... Uh, I mean, Arthur!" she nodded, the pirate smiled gently at her, before remembering the fact that she had barged into his cabinet with no apparent reason at all.  
"What was all that rush about?"  
"W-what!? I-I don't know what you're going on about!" she responded, trying to avoid the not-desired topic.  
"Ya know what I'm sayin', why did ya barge in 'ere with all that rush?" he replied, raising one of his thick eyebrows at the girl that stood shifting in front of him.  
"No reason, really!" she assured nervously.  
"Are ya sure?" he wondered.  
"Yes, of course!" she nodded vehemently.  
"Really sure?" he repeated himself.  
"Ye-..." her sentence was interrupted by a shout that echoed through the whole ship:  
"(F/N)! WHERE ARE YA, LOVE?"  
The (h/c) head's face paled as the last shouted word was pronounced; Arthur himself wasn't all that pleased with that same word, especially after recognising the voice, his brother's voice.  
"Really sure?" Arthur echoed, his eyes narrowing dangerously.  
"No..." she muttered; her eyes were now trained on the ground as she shyly played with her hands.  
"Why is Allistor lookin' for ya and callin' ya 'love'?" he demanded, his voice a bit to harsh.  
"I-I..." she started, but quickly trailed off. "I did something stupid!" she finished.  
"What stupid thing?" he pressured.  
"I-I put..." she said. "No, I-I can't tell you...!"  
Maybe really wanting to know what really happened or maybe just wanting to find out a way to shut his annoying brother up, we may never know; the captain grabbed the girl's shoulders just as she was about to leave and pulled her back.  
"What 'appened?" he repeated.  
The girl sighed, fully aware that she had no possible escape now.  
"I-I put something on a cake, and Allistor, being Allistor, had to eat that same exact cake!" she huffed, frankly annoyed at the Scottish.  
"What did ya put in the cake?"  
"Just a... New ingredient!?"  
"And what exactly is that new ingredient?" he urged; the only response he got was some incoherent murmurs, but he wouldn't give up so easily, after a few more tentatives, he was finally able to hear her words.  
"It was a love potion!" she had admitted.  
"A love potion?" he wondered, incredulous, to make sure he had heard her correctly; an exasperated sigh left his mouth as she nodded softly. "Who was the potion for?"  
"What does that matter?" huffed the girl.  
"Ya know that a love potion is made accordingly to the destined person, right?" he wondered, she simply nodded in response. "It's easier to make an antidote if we know 'ow the potion was made!" he explained. "Now, who was the potion for?"  
(E/c) orbs trembled lightly as the girl bit her lip, not wanting her secret to be discovered.  
"(F/N), LOVE, ARE YA IN 'ERE?" Allistor shouted, knocking loudly on his brother's door. "'EY, ARTIE, IS (F/N) WITH YA?"  
"If ya don't tell me, I'm goin' to have to open the door for 'im." stated the blond man; (f/n)'s eyes widened at this.  
"Fine, fine, the... thepotionwasmeantfor... for... for YOU!" she blurted, closing her eyes tightly, fearing that he would get mad and lash out on her; the male didn't respond for a few seconds as his brain slowly processed the words.  
"F-for me...?" he echoed, his voice low as a heavy blush tainted his cheeks; blinking her eyes open, she stared at him, confused at his reaction.  
"A-aren't you... going to say anything?" she asked.  
"Uh, I-I... I don't know what to say..."  
"ARTIE, ARE YA IN THERE?" Allistor's voice echoed along with more pounding on the door.  
"We have to hide ya, come on!" Arthur said, grabbing her hand and leading her into the closet. "Stay 'ere and keep quiet!" he ordered, closing the closet's door and going to open the cabinet's door. Opening the door, his older brother looked even more idiotic than normally, probably due to being affected by the potion.  
"What do ya want, Allistor?" asked Arthur, carefully observing as the red head let out a whole hearted laugh.  
"Oh, Artie, I'm lookin' for (f/n), 'ave ya seen 'er?" asked the scottish, throwing his arm around his little brother's shoulders.  
"I most certainly did not, but I think I saw 'er getting off the ship to go buy supplies before we depart!" answered the british.  
"Alright, then I'm goin' to the city!" shot the red head, taking off running to look for the girl god-knows-where in the coast town.  
With a sigh, Arthur closed and locked the door, in fear of his brother turning back.  
"Ya can come out now!"  
Doing as she was told, (f/n) wearily exited the small compartment, her gaze trained on the ground.  
"'e's worse than I thought 'e'd be..." muttered the blond.  
"I'm really sorry, it's all my fault..." apologised the girl.  
"Why did ya do that?" he sighed.  
"I-I... I didn't know what else to do!" she admitted.  
"You should have talked to me first." he said, abandoning his pirate form of talking while slowly walking towards her.  
"I knew you didn't like me, not like that; but I couldn't bring myself to hear it from you, so I did this, but it went all wrong a-and... You have all the reasons to be mad and shout at me, or even to hate me!" she blurted, closing her eyes tightly as the words flew freely out of her mouth.  
"I don't hate you!" he stated.  
"Y-you don't!?" she echoed, her eyes fluttering open and gazing away from the ground to the pirate captain; he shook his head in response.  
"Nor am I mad at you. Maybe a bit shocked, surprised, but not mad!" he added, giving one last step forward and moving his hand to tilt her head slightly up.  
"B-but... I-I..." she stuttered, her eyes trembling as she looked into his forest green eyes.  
"You know, for the longest time... All the moments we passed together, all those times we got lost in woods, all those times we infiltrated the palace, all those times when you were the only one who supported my dream of becoming a pirate... All those times made me, little by little, start falling for you!" he informed. "But then I actually turned into a pirate, a captain and, even so, you still stayed with me, that was when I truly realized that, all of this time, I loved you. But, knowing you, I always thought that I didn't deserve you; especially with all the talks we've had, you always passed the message that you wanted a stable family with a normal husband and children, with a normal house in the land you love so much. But yet, here you are, telling me how you loved me all this time and showing me how far you'd be willing to go; you deserve better than me..."  
His words left her speechless, tears started to blur her vision as she shook her head.  
"You're wrong, Arthur!" she disagreed. "If there is a place where I belong to is wherever my heart is, wherever you are. I'd stay with you until the end, no matter what!"  
"I couldn't possibly ask that from you." he denied, softly letting go of her chin.  
"You don't need to ask!" she said, grasping his hand with hers. "I'm telling you, I'll never leave you! But I don't understand how can you not be mad at me..." he chuckled at this.  
"I love you too much to be mad at you!" he stated, leaning down to place a kiss on the top of her forehead.  
"I love you too!" she admitted, hugging his torso.  
"I know..." he whispered, softly returning the hug.  
And so, they passed the next hour in the middle of cuddles, hugs, kisses, small talks, laughs and blushing faces.

"Oh, no!" (f/n) shot out of a sudden. "Arthur?" she called.  
"What is it?" he muttered, cutely nuzzling her cheek; she pulled away from him and forced him to look her in the eyes.  
"We forgot about Allistor!"


	12. Papa Nyo Belarus

(s/n) - son's name

It was yet another day in the large household where (f/n) lived with her husband, her son, her husband's siblings and her good friends that happened to work under her sister-in-law. The (h/c) head followed the Baltics around, helping them cleaning the hall so they could finish before it was lunch time; she had left (s/n) with Nikolai, she honestly thought, despite everything Annya said, that the two needed to spend more father-son alone time.

Just like usual, the trio tried to refuse her help by saying that she had more things to do, such as taking care of the 5 year old boy or avoiding Belarus to throw knives everywhere around while 'training' (no one believed that), but the girl always ignored their words and proceded to help the best she could.

While his wife was busy with all the cleaning, a certain silverette stood at the side of his bed, his gaze locked on the child's violet eyes.  
"Mama." stated the (h/c) haired boy; Belarus' glare intensified.  
"Mama isn't here!" he said.  
"Mama." repeated the child. "I want mama!"  
"Mama is busy!"  
"Call mama!" ordered the five year old.  
"No!" responded Nikolai.  
"I want mama!" demanded the kid. "My mama!"  
Unknown to them, Annya, who had been watching the scene along with Dmitri, went to fetch the only other female in the house.  
"Your mama?" wondered the silver head, emphasizing the word 'your'.  
"Da!" nodded the small boy. "My mama!"  
"Mama is not yours!"  
"Da, mama's mine!"  
Still without them noticing, Russia had returned to watch the unfolding of the scene; dragging her sister-in-law with her, Annya moved to stand by Ukraine's side.  
"Nyet, mama's mine!" Nikolai interjected.  
"Mine!"  
"Mine!"  
"Mine!"  
"Mine!"  
"Mine!"  
"Mine!"  
"Mine!"  
"My woman!" stated Belarus.  
"My mama!" (s/n) attempted copy his father's growl, but the sound he made was so adorable that it caused a chuckle to reverberate in Dmitri's chest and sent the women into a fit of silent giggles.  
"Mine!" Nikolai claimed.  
"Mine, not papa's!" (s/n) disagreed.  
The sight of the two was the most adorable of things. The two looked into each other's eyes fiercely, the father with a cute frown and the child with a cute pout and puffy cheeks; but the ultimate piece was that, aside the hair colour, (s/n) was the spitting image his father.  
"Da, mama is papa's!" Nikolai stated.  
"Nyet!"  
"Da!"  
"Nyet!"  
"Da!"  
"Nyet!"  
"Da!"  
"Nyet!"  
"Da!" the two were now touching their foreheads as they glared fiercely at each other. (F/n) knew that Nikolai would never hurt (s/n), not on purpose, but, just in case, before things got out of hand and the boy ended up falling from the tall bed of his parents or something, she stepped in front.  
"Alright, enough fighting!" she stated, closing the distance between them and herself; both father and son turned their heads simultaneously at the sound of her voice.  
"Mama!" called the small boy, stretching his arms towards his mother as if asking her to pick him up; noticing this, the silver head reached for his wife's hand, in a hope to grab her before she picked their child up. Just as Belarus pulled (f/n) to him, (s/n) had grabbed her arm and was now hanging on his mother's limb.  
"Mine!" they both shot at the same time. In the doorway, Annya and Dmitri laughed at the event.  
"Boys, boys, boys!" said the (h/c) head, gaining attention from both. "I am your mother and your wife..." she stated, pointing at each of them. "...I own myself, and I don't want more jealousy fights, get it?"  
"Da, mama!" "Da, (f/n)!"  
"Good, now come on. It's lunch time!" she announced, picking up (s/n) properly and passing him to Nikolai's hold; she walked away, the others following her to the dining hall.  
Behind (f/n), father and son continued their fight of glares under the amused gaze of Nikolai's older siblings; somehow, the (e/c) eyed female picked up on the tension a couple of meters behind her.  
"Stop it boys, you have to learn how to behave for the little one!" her statement seemed to caught everyone, except Annya, out of guard.  
"What little one?" Dmitri wondered.  
"Oh, I went to the doctor a while ago, he thinks this time is a girl!" explained the (nationality). Understanding her words, the glare of the two intensified even more and two shouts echoed through the household:  
"My sister!" "My daughter!"

"This is going to be a nightmare..." (f/n) sighed as Russia patted her back apologetically.


	13. Presents of Jealousy (2P Romano)

'Every year the story repeats itself...' sighed a (h/c) head, laying on the couch while watching the commercials that appeared in the television screen. 'What should I get him?'  
"God, why is that guy so difficult?" she whined. "Argh, I need help... And from someone who actually knows him... Maybe I should ask Luciano!"  
Every year was the same thing, whenever Flavio's birthday came, she never knew what could be a good present for him. Sure he liked fashion and things of the kind, but he was a world-renowned stylist and his younger brother was a famous name in the mafia world, meaning they could get pretty much anything they wanted.  
Quickly abandoning the sofa, she got ready and bolted out of her house and towards the Vargas complex, perfectly aware that the older of the two brothers had gone to Milan the previous day and was only back on the following morning. Violently, she knocked on the door.  
"Who-a dares to-a bother-a me-a?" came the familiar voice from inside; the italian's expression changed when he opened the door, changed from rage to confusion. "What do you-a want, ragazza? Mio fratello is not-a here."  
"I know that, I just need to ask you something!" she explained.  
"What?" he wondered. "Hurry up-a, I have-a more-a important things to-a attend-a to!"  
"Right... By any chance, wouldn't you know about something Flavio would like for his birthday?" she asked, hope written all over her eyes; now, Luciano felt a sudden urge to laugh, but, wanting to maintain his image, he didn't and simply responded:  
"No, I have-a no idea, just-a give him a new scarf or-a something like-a that-a."  
"Ah, thank you... for your hmm... enlightening opinion..." she waved off, turning away from the door. "Bye, Luci..."  
"Whatever, ragazza." he said, going back inside.

She slowly dragged her feet as she made her way back home.  
"Oh lord, now what am I going to do?" she sighed. "Maybe I should sleep it over, then I might have an idea..."

Said and done, she went for a good night rest... Or not... She did try to fall asleep, honestly, but this matter was seriously bugging her. Then, out of a sudden, she shot out of her bed with a shout:  
"Andrés!"  
"How didn't I remember him before? He's known Flavio for so long, he surely knows what he'd like!" she blurted as she made her way to where the phone was. Then, hurriedly, almost mechanically, she dialed the spanish's number.  
'Come on, come on, pick up...' she thought, absently biting her finger.

"Who the hell is this?" grumbled an accented voice.  
"Andrés, I'm really sorry for waking you..." she apologised.  
"(F/n), chica, what do you want at a time like this?"  
"A... time like this...?"  
"Sí, it's 3am, no one wakes up a murderer at this time of the night, unless they have a death wish!"  
"Reformulate that sentence, no one except me, but I'm only doing this because I can't sleep!" she whined.  
"Can't sleep? Did someone bother you? If someone did, we can always help you!"  
"I know... But no, it's even worse. I can't decide what to offer Flavio for his birthday!"  
"Huh? Did you really wake me up just because of that?"  
"What do you mean 'JUST because of that'? It's an extremely important matter!"  
"Just give him a new stack of poison or a new pair of boots, that'll make him happy."  
"If you think so..."  
"Goodnight, (f/n)!" he bid, immediately hanging up.  
"Goodnight..." she sighed, before returning to bed. "Now my only hope is..."

The next day arrived, bright and sunny almost as if telling the day would be good, although... it wouldn't turn out as great for a certain someone...  
Always with a smile on her face, she skipped to the Vargas residence; just her luck, Flavio was the one to open the door.  
"Ciao, Flavio!" she chirped.  
"Ciao, (f/n)! What a surprise-a!"  
"W-well... I have a problem, and only you can help me!" she stated, causing the italian to raise an eyebrow suspiciously.  
"Of-a course, and what do you-a need help-a with?"  
"It's about... male 'likes'!?" informed the (h/c) head, a bit unsure about how to put it.  
"Sí, I think I can-a help you with-a that." he mused. "But-a why exactly do you-a need such-a help?"  
"I..." she stuttered. "I need a present for a friend, and I need ideas!"  
'Yeah, nice save!' she mentally cheered, lightly shifting under the italian's predatory gaze.  
"A friend!" he purred. "And do I-a happen to-a know this-a... friend of yours?"  
"That... is not important! I'll just tell that he's a wonderful person, his 'likes' are very similar to yours, and I won't spend more than 200€!"  
"Oh!" he mused. "Come-a in and-a wait while I-a go grab my jacket!"  
Softly taking her hand, he pulled her inside, slammed the door close, and, leaving her standing in the hallway, he took off to his room upstairs.

"So she's-a liking-a someone, eh? And to the-a point to-a spend 200 in-a presents for-a him!" he muttered to himself.  
'Do something, this is a major offense and it asks for revenge!' spoke up a voice inside his head.  
"Sí, si, I know... And I-a think I know just-a what I'm-a going to-a do, without-a hurting her-a friend, of-a course!" he chuckled.  
'What? Without hurting him? Why not just kill him?' yelled the voice in indignation.  
"No, (f/n) would-a be mad at-a me forever, but I-a know what to-a do so he won't-a want to-a see her again, never again!"

\- Time skip to one of those warehouses that sell almost anything -

"Do you see anything you like?" wondered the girl.  
'A few-a things, but-a nothing that will be-a owned by this-a THREAT to-a our relationship...' he thought, but his actual reply was: "Not-a yet, dolce mio!"

For hours, they travelled around the building, and Flavio made his choices: boxing gloves, a useless and expensive weird-looking chair and, finally, a box that seemed to have been painted by a child; all things he found stupid and extremely hideous, but he made the particular effort to seem excited when he saw them. Of course, (f/n) found his 'likes' a bit odd, but, knowing him, she just shrugged it off, especially after he swore that he'd cry with joy if such gifts were offered to him.  
In all honesty, there was only one thought in each of their heads. (F/n): 'I can't believe I tricked him! He's going to be so surprised after receiving those... things!'; Flavio: 'When that-a THREAT receives those-a pieces of-a junk, he'll never want to-a lay his eyes on-a her ever again-a!'

And the time passed until the dreaded day arrived, the day of... Flavio's birthday.  
"So, how were your presents so far?" asked (f/n).  
"Fantasticos!" assured the blond. "Luci offered-a me a new scarf, Andrés got-a me a brand-a new stack of-a poisons, ..." and the list went on.  
"Oh, you really seem to like all that..." she started, the italian nodded vehemently. "...but I can assure you that my present will be great this year!"  
"Oh, amore mio, your-a presents are always magnificent-a!" he replied, softly kissing her hand.  
"Yes... Well, this time is going to be even better!" she echoed.  
Complying to her wishes, Flavio stepped closer to her rather large present and opened it. A real surprise it was, there were the three items he had indicated to her in the warehouse: the gloves, the chair and the box. His eyebrow twitched slightly, his mouth was hanging open and his shades had slid down the bridge of his nose.  
"Aren't you going to say anything, Flavio?" (f/n) wondered.  
"A-ah... It's-a wonderful, and a very big-a surprise!" he responded with a nervous smile.

In the background, the two closest people to the blond laughed like there was no tomorrow.  
"A great-a rival you-a had, fratello!"  
"Sí, no one could rival you better!" agreed the spanish.

"Eh? What are they talking about?" inquired the (h/c) head.  
"Nothing, ignore-a them-a..." sighed the older italian. "Your-a gifts are-a lovely!"  
But, what he was truly thinking at the moment was: 'I've-a never felt-a dumber...'


	14. Hate the french? (Romano)

Knocks, knocks and more knocks on the door; it really was starting to get on Lovino's nerves, as if Toni leaving him alone with Francis wasn't bad enough.  
"WHO THE-A CRA-..." the shout died on his throat as the familiarity of the face on the other side of the door sank in. "(F/n), amore, what are you-a doing here?"  
"I came to visit you, obviously! What else?" said the girl.  
"Buono... I don't-a think this is the-a best moment..." muttered the italian.  
"Huh!? What do you mean with that? Aren't you happy to see me?" she wondered, almost in the verge of tearing up.  
"Ah, si, of-a course I am!" answered Lovi, taking the female in a tight hug. "I'm-a more than-a happy to see you!" he assured, but no answer came from the girl; her gaze had caught the source of a sudden movement through the living room's doorway.  
"What is HE doing here?" she demanded, releasing herself from his grasp and pointing accusatively at the french male.  
"You know he is-a one of the-a tomato bastard's best-a friends." recalled the italian.  
"Yeah, but Toni's not here, shoo him away!" He tried, he really did, but words were not his strong point and he wasn't strong enough to kick the blond out of the house.  
"You're no good like that!" sighed the girl.  
"What is-a that supposed to-a mean?" pouted the brunette.  
"It means that I am going to train you!"

Endless plates full of vegetables and such; (f/n) wouldn't allow him to even look at actually tasty food. She tried to put him running, but since he was refusing to do more than walk, she took him to a very special place where she was almost certain that he would run: Switzerland's house; of course he hadn't notice where they were.  
"Now, Lovi, I want you to run to that tree over there and back!" she said, pointing a tree that was about 300 meters away. He calmly walked a few meters, but soon found himself being shot at and chased by an angry swiss.  
"Go on, Lovi, you can do it!" cheered (f/n). "Just quit being lazy and start trying!"

"It could've been worse, you only got a couple scratches, none of the bullets actually hit you!" comforted the (nationality), tending to the small gashes the italian had gained due to her training.  
Once again, he tried to kick France out of the house, but to no avail; the only thing he got was a really large bump on the head (he hit his forehead on the wall).  
Mad, not wishing to yell at (f/n), wanting to calm down, he left for a walk with a very moody grunt.

"I'm... Bored, I can't believe he actually left me alone!" sighed (f/n). That was when a chess board entered her line of sight; desperate for something to do, she sat on a chair and began to play on her own.  
"Xeque-Mate in zhree plays!" announced an accented voice. Raising her gaze, she found herself facing the annoying french.  
"Three plays?" mused the (h/c) head. "How am I going to escape this?"  
"It's easy, when you know."  
"So... You can play?"  
"Mais oui, of course!" nodded the blond, taking the seat across from the girl.

"Hm... Maybe she's-a right, I really am-a lazy... But I'll-a prove that I can-a expel that-a idiota from the-a house!" said Lovino for only himself to hear. Fuming, he stomped his way back to the house.  
Entering the front door, the building presented itself unexpectedly silent.  
Peeking inside the living room, he could see the frenchman sitting by the chess board, but he failed to see the opposite side of the table. With a jump forward, he prepared to attack the blond, only to be stopped by a shout:  
"LOVI! Can't you see we're in the middle of a game?" reprehended (f/n). Looking up at his girlfriend, Romano blinked dumbly. France directed a mischievious grin at the italian, obtaining a harsh glare in response.  
"Lovi, would you be a sweetheart and bring us something to drink?" wondered the (h/c) head, performing a movement on the chess board.  
"Sí, amore mio..." muttered the brunette, feeling himself sulk.  
"For me is wine, oui, Roma?" chuckled Francis.  
"Sí, sí, whatever." brushed off Lovino.

"You stupido wine-a bastard!"


	15. Angrier cuter (England)

"NO, I AM NOT GOING TO EXPLAIN WHY THE BLOODY HELL THEY CALL ME 'BLACK SHEEP OF EUROPE'! JUST QUIT IT!" yelled Arthur, refusing once again to explain said case to his little american brother.  
"But, dude, why not? It can't be such a big deal!" whined Alfred.  
"Just quit, Alfie, he's not going to let out." intervened (f/n), stretching on the brit's sofa.  
"But I want to know!" cried out the american.  
"No means no, and that's my final word!" huffed Britain, before walking away, abandoning the living room with his head held high and a scowl on his face.  
"How do you stand all those outbursts?" inquired America while turning to face the girl, sincerely curious.  
"The angrier he is, the cuter he gets!" answered (f/n) with a giggle.  
"What!?" Alfred snorted. "You really think he's cute?"  
"Hm... Don't you have things to do?" inquired the (h/c) head. "Like going to McDonalds or something?"  
The american's eyes widened at this.  
"Yeah, HAMBURGERS!" and so he ran out of the house.  
"Oh, and by the way..." she mused, grabbing a pillow that was shaped as England's mochi and looking it right in the eyes. "I really think you're cute!"  
"Really?" sounded a familiar voice, her eyes abandoned the mochi pillow to face the brit leaning on the sofa.  
"Really!" she nodded, sitting up.  
"Really really?" he wondered while leaning closer.  
"Really really!" she assured, scooting a little closer to him. "Especially when you're angry!" she admitted, suddenly flicking his forehead in a soft manner.  
"I do not!" disagreed Arthur, his expression taking the form of a pout while a soft blush tinted his cheeks. "I can be scary when I get mad!"  
"Maybe to others..." agreed (f/n). "But my opinion is that: the angrier you are, the cuter you get!"  
"Eh!? You make no sense at all sometimes, love. You know?" he sighed.  
"It may be so, but you love me~!"  
"That I do, love! That... I do!"


	16. No more horror films (Nordics)

'Okay, I can do this!' thought a (h/c) head, looking down to the darkness of the basement. "Matthias, where's the light flicker?" she called to the blond in the living room.  
"Downstairs!" he informed, causing the girl's eye to twitch lightly and a shiver to crawl up her spine.  
Shakily, she closed her eyes and placed her foot down on the first step; a sigh of relief left her lips as nothing happened. Six more steps and darkness started to engulf her, causing her to be a bit on the edge.  
'I can do this, nothing happened yet, it's not now that something's going to. I can do this, I can do this, I can...' she recited in her head. Then, when she placed her weight on the next step, it screeched; (f/n)'s eyes widened and she bolted back upstairs and into the living room yelling:  
"NO, I CAN'T, I CAN'T' I CAN'T DO IT! HELP!" and the first person she ran into while running across the house was the one she clinged to, that person happened to be Finland.  
"Eh?" muttered the finn as he felt a sudden weight on his arm. "(F/n)? What happened?" he asked, taking notice of the shaky female tightly gripping his arm.  
"I can't do it...!" she squeaked, violently shaking her head with widened eyes.  
"What is it you can't do?" inquired Tino.  
"W-well..." she started. "I can't do what Matthias asked me to!" she stated.  
"Matthias?" said the finnish out of surprise. "And what did he asked you to do?" Tino inquired, already expecting some kind of idiocy.  
"He asked me to go downstairs to the basement to get a red and white box!"  
"And why can't you do it? You just need to go to the basement!"  
"THAT'S EXACTLY THE PROBLEM!" she shot. "I was on my way down, but that place is dark and the step screeched and... and god knows what terrible things may be lurking in the darkness of that basement waiting just for the right moment to stab someone passing by to death!"  
"Aren't you exaggerating a little?" sweatdropped the blond.  
"No!" emphasised the (nationality).  
"How about I go with you?" he suggested, softly patting her head.  
"You would do that?" her shined brightly as she looked up at him.  
"Yeah, you'll see there's nothing to fear, okay?" he nodded.

\- time skip of the nordics shining bright like a Doitsu -

"See? It's not too bad down here!" cheered Finland as he picked the box from a shelf.  
"Yeah, I guess..." muttered (country), absently looking around the room.

Suddenly she saw something that sent shivers down her spine, maybe it was just her overactive imagination, but she could swear she had seen the dolls on a corner moving. Something snapped inside her mind: 'Chucky' was what came to her mind. Out of the blue, she took off running upstairs to the living room while screaming her lungs out.  
In the basement, Tino blinked, confused at whatever had happened, before calmly following on the girl's steps.

In the living room, (f/n) had dived into the covers that had been daintily folded on top of one of the sofas; four confused nordic nations tried to figure out what was happening, but all that left the female's mouth were incomprehensible stutters and cries.  
A couple of minutes later, Tino appeared on the doorway carrying Matthias' box.  
"What are you doing with that?" asked the dane.  
"I don't think it's a good idea to let (f/n) watch horror films!" Tino answered.  
"Why?" wondered Emil, softly raising an eyebrow.  
The finn didn't answer, instead, he lifted the covers hiding (f/n). She looked up terrified.  
"What are you doing?" she huffed.  
"What are YOU doing?" asked Denmark.  
"I HAVE TO HIDE OR THE DOLLS'LL KILL ME!" she yelled, before covering herself yet again.  
"So... No more horror films, right?" echoed the dane with a sweatdrop. Everyone else nodded.  
"Oh, and we also shouldn't ask her to go to the basement, and probably the attic too!" added the finn.  
"Not even with someone else?" asked Lukas.  
"No!"


	17. Paranoia (England)

Finally, Alfred managed to become independent. America was now his own country, having freed from his brother's control.

Arthur cried, he couldn't accept his brother had left him. In his mind, Alfred had abandoned him; he was alone, again... or so his mind told him...  
England locked himself inside the house the moment he arrived, wishing to be left in peace with his sadness. At the end of the first day, in a mirror, his eyes caught sight of a familiar baby clinging to him, but, looking at his leg, he wasn't there.  
The more time he passed alone, the more his paranoia grew. In the second day, he saw hallucinations everywhere he looked at; the mental overload was too hard to bear. He turned to drinking; even so, the emotions and hallucinations were too much for his mind to handle.  
Eventually, after a week of no sleep and barely eating, the man broke. His body fell fainted on the floor of his bedroom among shards of broken glass, torn pictures, broken frames...

One day.  
Two days.  
Three days.  
Four days.  
Five days and nothing. Ever since she found out about Alfred's independence, everyday she went and tried to meet with the brit to see how he was doing; but after five days, he hadn't answered the door once.  
Worried, (country) returned on the sixth day, but this time accompanied, after having a conversation with someone:

"Francis, I need a favour, it's urgent!"  
"(F/n), ma cherie, it will be a plaisir to be of 'elp, but first I 'ave to go visit Angleterre, 'e 'asn't shown any signs of life ever since zhe revolution!" he excused, bowing lightly to the female.  
"It's because of Arthur I'm here, you idiot!" she huffed.  
"Oh, 'ave you been able to talk to 'im?" he asked. "Not zhat zhat would be surprising, after all you two ARE..."  
"That's the problem, Francis!" she interrupted. "I've been trying to see him everyday for the last five days, but he won't answer the door! I need help because I'm worried about him!"  
"Well, I was to meet wizh Vladimir who said 'e wanted to talk to 'im too!" informed the french.  
"Okay then..." she sighed, joining the frenchman waiting for the romanian.

Not much later, they arrived England's house. Rushing towards the house; France held the girl back as Romania forced the door open, allowing their entrance.  
The house was dark and a complete mess; broken objects covered the floor in wood, glass, porcelain, and many other things.  
The house had been almost destroyed (probably during attacks of rage, despair, regret or longing), but no Britain in sight.  
They found him inside his room; his body was bloody and unconscious, the ground was covered in torn letters and pictures, shards of glass all over, and a few broken frames. The sight was disturbing. (F/n)'s hands flew over to her mouth as the man's name abandoned her lips in a strained manner and tears started to fall from her (e/c) orbs; she tried to move towards the body, but a pair of arms surrounded her shoulders and led her outside. Meanwhile, inside, France lifted the brit's body and took him outside, where the (nationality)'s carriage was.  
Only Francis accompanied England inside, as they had deemed (f/n) too emotional at the moment to do so; the (h/c) head would go beside the romanian who was going to drive the vehicle.

"(F/n) felt relieved when the doctor said the brit hadn't attempted to suicide. All the blood had come from gashes caused by the broken glass; the reason why he was unconscious was due to lack of sleep and lack of food.  
"Zhis is my fault..." lamented the french. "Zhis wouldn't 'ave 'appened if I 'adn't 'elped Amerique getting 'is independence..."  
"You're not to blame, Francis. But I should have been present when he arrived back in London, I could've prevented this..." she sniffed, accepting a hug from the romanian who intervened:  
"No one is to blame, we all have our share on this, even Arthur himself! But neither of you should take the blame to their shoulders, do you understand?"  
More tears were shed due to the conscious impotence. Soon, a nurse allowed them to enter the patient's room; on the bed, Britain laid unconscious, his eyes were tightly closed and his hands gripped the sheets strongly, he appeared restless.  
Words were said, even though they were aware he could not hear them. Romania left an hour later, having promised to tell Arthur's family and friends about his condition. France and (country) remained in the room; the blond sat on a chair placed close to the patient with his face hidden by his hands; (f/n) remained kneeled down by the bed, her hands placed on top of Arthur's as she softly spoke, always hoping that he would hear her.

A week after the other, a few nations began to loose their sleep due to the worry towards the brit.  
Three particular nations diminished the quantity of their food: France and America, feeling the guilt and spending more time at the hospital than any other place; (country), too worried about the englishman to even remember eating. The three spent several nights by the bed where, unconscious, Britain trashed around due to nightmares, screaming why and America's name and sometimes begging for several others not to abandon him, ever; shouting about how he didn't want to be alone.  
After a week full of yells and nightmares, the doctors induced opium in him in order to get him to rest. At the same time, they communicated the present nations the following conclusions: Britain had not slept for days and his psyche was in tatters. (Country) cried with France; America returned home feeling guilt and regret, even though he denied it.

A month passed, a full month without a glimpse of the forest-green orbs.  
Francis, with Canada's help, managed to convince the (nationality) to accompany them so she could eat properly, something she hadn't done for weeks now. Reluctantly, she accepted their arguments.

Not many minutes passed before a pair of forest coloured orbs awakened to face their surroundings. With effort, Arthur sat up on the bed using one arm as support while the opposite hand was taken to his head as he tried to process everything that had happened. Looking around the division, he saw no one and, tearing up, a whisper abandoned his pale lips:  
"That voice... was right, I really am..." a hiccup left him as his mind wandered to his family and all the ones he had always considered his friends.  
"...alone...!" he finished. "I have no one!"

"No! I've eaten enough already, we have to go back to Artie!" discussed the (h/c) head, dodging the males' grasps and escaping back to the brit's room.

Heavily breathing due to the run she had made to escape, she entered the room and closed the door behind her, releasing a heavy sigh. What she heard next surprised her, a hoarse voice called quietly:  
"(F/n)!?"  
(E/c) eyes widened as she recognised the familiar tone and, ever-so-slowly, turned around on her heels to come face an awakened nation.  
"Arthur...?" she breathed out, barely able to trust her own sight.  
"You're awake!" she shot, throwing her arms around his neck. "I thought... We thought... I mean... You're okay...! The doctors said you shouldn't wake up, that your mind had broke; and I... I was afraid, really afraid! Oh, Arthur..." she cried.  
"My mind has been broken for centuries, just like everyone else's; this was just a slip! I'm fine!" he stated, returning the affectionate gesture by snaking his arms around her torso.  
"A slip we thought had killed you. And the nightmares you had got us honestly troubled!"  
"The nightmares..." he echoed sadly; his grip on her loosing all the strength.  
"Arthur...?" she wondered, pulling away from the male. "What's wrong?"  
"I... When I woke up, there was no one in here, I... I really thought..." he began to tear up.  
"Oh, Arthur..." muttered (country), pulling him closer once again. "You will never be alone. No matter what, you will always have us, your family and friends. You can always, ALWAYS, count on us!"  
"Thank you..."

No sooner had they fell silent, the door opened to reveal three nations: France, America, Canada. Surprised to find Britain awake, cheers erupted from the trio, even though they had to leave their reputation behind so as to show their happiness.

It would take a serious lot for England to ever doubt them again!  
But he would...


	18. Russia

The loud whimpers echoed through the large mannor, waking everyone except for the one who produced the sounds.  
The Baltics, Lithuania, Estonia and Latvia, got up from the bed and out of the room, quickly making their way to the larger countrie's room; they didn't enter, but they didn't have the need to, since the sounds that traversed that door were enough to confirm their suspicions, the russian's nightmares had returned...  
In the room beside the trio's bedroom, a young (h/c) head was also awakened by the piteous moans. Curious as to what was happening, she exited the room and followed the way indicated by the sounds; at the end of said, there they were, the three males with their gazes fearfully fixed on the closed wooden door.  
"What are you doing?" she questioned startling the trio, especially the youngest of them whose tears were starting to show.  
"(F-f/n), don't do that, please..." pleaded the lithuanian, shaking like a leaf in the wind.  
"Ah, sorry." she said apologetically, before returning to the main subject. "But what are you all doing here?"  
"Well, you see... We can't really sleep when he's like this..." sighed Toris.  
"I don't blame you, he is being quite loud!" nodded the girl. "But I don't see why, I've been here for years now, and I can't recall any occurrence such as this..."  
"Mr. Russia is probably having nightmares again!" intervened Raivis, his words immediately catching the girl's attention.  
"Nightmares!?" it was the word that strucked her more, then a mutter left her lips: "No one would believe this..."  
"So, you just stand here and wait for him to quiet down?" she wondered, her mind returning to the matter at hand. The three nodded simultaneously.  
"Have you never thought of waking him up?" the Baltics all paled noticeably after hearing the suggestion; what was she thinking? Waking Mr. Russia? That was suicidal!  
"You're not serious, are you?" wondered Estonia, just to make sure.  
"Of course I am!" retorted (country). "Why wouldn't I be?"  
Toris' hands suddenly dropped on her shoulders.  
"This is Mr. Russia we're talking about. We have no idea how he'd react if one were to wake him while he's having a nightmare, it might be dangerous!"  
"I'm pretty sure he just needs a little comfort!" assured (f/n).  
"You realize he might turn against you, thinking you're a part of his nightmare and hurt you, whether consciously or not, don't you?" backfired Eduard.  
"I'm almost certain that that won't happen." she stated, before waving at the three. "See you later!"  
And so she disappeared into the darkness of Russia's bedroom. Darkness? She thought, didn't Russia tell her, more than once, that he wasn't such a great fan of the dark? Weird! Nevertheless, she silently crossed the room, quickly reaching the blond's bed.  
He was restless, beads of sweat drenched not only his forehead but his entire body while he violently trashed around, always keeping a tight grip on his pillow; his cover and sheets were thrown all over the ground; and he whimpered and growled desperately. She also noticed something else, his scars; there was a particularly large one, a gash on his chest she knew all to well was because of the fall of the Romanov, one of his hands was trying to grasp that same old wound. Never in a thousand years would have she imagined to see the man in such a state; his current actions, he looked like a scared and defenceless child, to think this was the country, scratch that, to think this was the man whose sole presence everyone feared.  
She didn't took long to act, it was painful to see him like that. (F/n) climbed up the bed and, avoiding the occasional blows caused by his trashing, she scooted closer to him and started shaking him while softly calling his name:  
"Ivan, Ivan wake up!"  
It didn't take long for him to wake, shooting up, startled, sweating and breathing heavily. His eyes widened as he realized that he was in his room in 2015, not that dreaded day again; it had all been a nightmare, a sigh of relief left his lips. Only then did he gaze to the side, acknowledging the foreign presence on his bed.  
"(F/n), why are you here?" he asked.  
"W-well..." she stuttered, now rethinking her act of entering the russian's room instead of staying with the trio. A deep breath and she explained: "You were whimpering and crying very loud, so I came to see what was wrong and then shook you awake when I saw you frowning and trashing all around... I'm sorry, I know you told us to never enter your room; and don't hurt the boys, they tried to stop me from entering, honestly, but I still did, because I was worried about you. But if you still want to punish someone for my intrusion, punish me not them..."  
She would have kept talking, but a heavy hand on top of her head stopped her; her gaze moved upwards to his face, he wasn't smiling, but his eyes were soft.  
"I won't punish anyone!" he assured. "Thank you for waking me!"  
"Y-you're welcome... So you're not mad?"  
"Nyet, thanks to you the nightmare stopped!" he answered, before whispering a last something: "...at least for now..."  
Catching the last part, (f/n) couldn't stop wondering herself about his nightmare, what was it that Russia feared so much? What was it that bothered him enough to meddle with his rest at night? Was it about that scar he had been trying to grasp mere minutes prior? Much to her own displeasure, her good sense and better judgement hadn't been enough to stop her curiosity from taking over, urging her to ask:  
"Would you like to talk about it?" the question had come out faster than she was able to think. Panic invaded her at the sight of violet eyes looking back at hers. "I-I mean, that is, if you want to. I'm not trying to force into telling me or anything, honest! It's just that I've been told before that talking to other people about your problems help, and I..."  
Her sudden outburst surprised him, apparently his inquiring gaze had startled her. He was just surprised that someone other than his sisters was actually worried for him and wanted to help him.  
"Da." he stated, but it seemed like the (h/c) head had misunderstood his words as her rambling carried on:  
"I just wanted to help, I swear for God, it was my only intention!"  
"I said I would like to talk!" he said, this time louder.  
"What...?" she she asked to no one in particular, blinking her eyes open while wondering if she had heard correctly.  
"I would like to talk..." repeated the russian. "...but I don't want to bother you with my silly problems."  
"Nonsense!" replied the (nationality). "It's no bother to help someone! And if it's bothering you, then you shouldn't take the matter lightly, if it's bothering you, it's because it is somewhat important! And... if you want someone to talk to about said problem, and any other problem at all, then I'll be more than ready and glad to help."  
"I don't know..." sighed Ivan.  
"Don't worry about it, what was it about? The nightmare, that is..."  
"A dreaded moment in my History!" answered Russia, with a shake of his head.  
"Which moment exactly?" asked (country).  
"1905!"  
"1905... 1905... Oh, the red Sunday? Is that what you were thinking about?"  
"And their death." intervened the blond. "My people and the Romanov!"  
"The Romanov?" wondered (f/n). "I thought you didn't like them..."  
"The czar not so much, but the princess Anastasia, she was always nice to me and one of the few people that didn't run from me... It's been more than a century, and I still haven't found anyone like her..."  
"Maybe... Maybe you haven't been paying enough attention..." (country) whispered to herself, moving her gaze away from his features and to her hands that were placed upon her lap, a slight frown present on her face.  
"What did you say?" he asked, not having understood her mutters.  
"Oh, nothing, just... talking to myself..." she stated. "But this isn't about me. You'll see that one day you will find someone to be with you!" she said, getting up from his bed and starting to walk up to the door. "Well, I have to go now, sleep well, Mr. Russia..."

"Wait!" shot Ivan just as the girl was about to open the door.  
"Yes?" she asked, turning around in order to face him.  
"Why did you do that?"  
"Did what?"  
"Why did you call me that?"  
"What? Mr. Russia?" she inquired, obtaining a nod from the man. "Because... Because it's the correct thing to do!"  
"Why? You always treat me by my name..."  
"The Baltics don't and they are my coworkers, if they don't do it, then why shouldn't do it either."  
"But why now?"  
"Because... Because! Now if you'll excuse me, sleep well!" bid (f/n), before going back to her own room.  
"Good night,... sunflower..." sighed the russian to the already gone female, before laying back down in a tentative to sleep, despite the thoughts invading his mind.

-

A knock on the door woke the (h/c) head up. Looking at the clock, she knew only one person, or rather country, who would bother her at such ungodly hours.  
"Monsters don't exist, Raivis, you can go get water by yourself!" she groaned. "It's me!" came a particularly accented voice. Now, this was enough to make her jump out of the bed and unlock the door.  
"What's wrong?"  
"I... Ah, I can't sleep..." excused the russian. One of the (nationality)'s eyebrows rose and she was about to intervene, but he carried on: "...and I was wondering if you minded that..."  
"You want to sleep with me?" she asked bluntly.  
"D-da, if you don't mind that is." answered the blond, looking a bit... embarrassed? No, sleep must be causing her to imagine things.  
"Sure, I guess..." she mused. "As long as you let me sleep!"  
"I won't bother you, sunflower!" he assured. The use of that nickname felt strange, but she just brushed it off, thinking that sleep really was getting to her, her imagination was being overactive.

Ten minutes, she was just about to fall asleep when...  
"I'm sorry..."  
"What for?" she yawned.  
"I didn't realize..." this little statement caught her attention, sleepy and heavily she turned around to face him. With a light nod of her head, she urged him to continue. "You really never left me, even before this alliance you never ran away, I even saw you discussing with the others saying that they were stupid and I wasn't scary, you're always present when I need someone... And I really..."  
He looked down at her. Surprisingly, she had fallen asleep.  
'She must have been really tired!' he thought with a chuckle. With a look at the clock, it was 4am; or maybe it wasn't so surprising after all.  
Sleep was finally getting to him as well. Pulling her closer, his eyelids dropped as a last whisper left his lips:  
"Ya lyublyu tebya, sunflower..."

"Where is (f/n)?" asked Estonia as the trio finished the breakfast.  
"Mr. Russia will be mad if she isn't in time..." whimpered Latvia.  
After a while more, Russia also hadn't made his appearance yet. The trio decided to go and see what was happening, but first they would wake (country) up for they didn't want Russia to be mad at her, God knows what would happen then...  
What the three didn't expect was the scene they were faced with as they entered (f/n)'s room. Unlike the usual mess, her covers and sheets were pristinely placed, covering not one but two individuals. Getting closer, they could see (f/n)'s head comfortably laid on top of Ivan's chest that fell and rose ever so softly; their breathing was synchronized; her arms hugged his torso and his cradled her body carefully.  
The vision of the two was sweet, especially seeing how calm they both seemed to be; but a problem arose.  
"Should we wake them?" asked Eduard.  
"But won't Mr. Russia be mad if we do?" trembled Raivis.  
"I say we should leave them be!" stated Toris.  
With a last glance, they left.

"I think Mr. Russia reencountered Anastasia in (f/n)!"  
"That's a good thing, maybe she can get his good side back."  
"I'm sure she can!"


	19. White Flags (Italy x Berlin Reader)

"(F/N)! (F/N)!?" a voice echoed through the house. A tall blond german entered the living room.  
"Bruder, have you seen (f/n)?"  
"Do I look like a babysitter to you?" remarked the prussian. "Berlin isn't a child, but I zhink I saw her going out vizh Italy, vhy?"  
"Because she has papervork to do!" informed the younger of the two brothers. "Vhy is she alvays out vizh Italy, anyvay? Zhe only zhing he's good at is draw, sleep, eat und cook!"  
"Kesese~, vho knows? But he's got her..."

Meanwhile...

"No, (f/n), you're-a doing it wrong-a!" said a certain brunette. "That way the-a flags will-a come-a out wrong!"  
"Vhat...?" blinked the (h/c) head, stopping on her track of putting a flag together. "Vhat am I doing vrong?"  
"You're-a not stretching the-a tissue enough!" informed the italian. "Here, I'll-a show you!" he offered, scooting his chair closer to the girl's.  
"Give me your-a hands!" he requested, she promptly complied. Carefully, Feliciano lead her hands with his, placing them on top of the white cloth; softly, almost as if brushing hair, he conducted her hands along the tissue, stretching it and eliminating any possible bumps. Then, moving her fingers with his, he made her softly attach the white cloth to the stick. (F/n) was surprised, it was unexpected that the clumsy italian could do such a perfect job; the flag was flawless.  
"There-a, why don't you-a try to-a do it on your-a own now?" Italy suggested.  
"J-ja, I suppose I could give it a try..." acceded the german capital.  
"Wonderful, bella, if you need any help just ask-a me, si?" Flushed, (f/n) nodded in response, before placing her concentration on the task ahead, or at least trying to concentrate, since her focus was more on a certain italian than exactly on the production of white flags.  
Observing from the doorway stood Germany, his mood gloomy.  
"Vhere did I fail...?" he sighed.  
"I do not think you faired, Germany-san." stated Kiku, who happened to be passing there.  
"Hm, Japan!? Vhat makes you say zhat?"  
"This is just the type of things on which you have no saying. Matters of the heart do not require any reasons or words."  
"If you say so... But, still... Vhy Italy?"  
"That... We may never know!"

"Ah, bella, you're distracted again!" warned Feli.  
"Eh!?" (f/n) blinked, almost immediately returning to the real world. "Oh, sorry..."  
"What's-a wrong? Is there-a something the-a matter?" shot worriedly the italian.  
"Nein, just tired." stated the girl, softly shaking her head.  
"Ve~... Maybe you should-a rest, no?" mused the brunette.  
"Ja, I should go back now! Mein bruders are probably vorried." agreed Berlin, standing up and leaving a half-done flag. Just as she was about to step out of the room, Italy called her again.  
"Vhat is i-...?" the words got stuck in her throat as a kiss was placed on her cheek before she could even fully turn back.  
"I just-a wanted to say buona notte and until tomorrow!" cheered Feliciano with a bright smile.  
"U-uh... Gutten nacht..." bid the female, before finally abandoning the room. Her face had never been such a dark shade of red.

"Vhat's vrong, (f/n)?" asked Germany before his sister could bolt upstairs and lock herself in the room.  
"NOTHING!" she yelled in embarrassment, bolting upstairs and locking herself in her room. Ludwig limited himself to look confusedly at the stairs. With a snicker, Gilbert manifested his opinion (opinion that left the blond rather unnerved):  
"I bet all you vant zhat he kissed her, kesese~...!"  
"ITALY!" it was also the first time Germany's face got such a dark shade of red (just not for the same reason as his sister).


	20. Wordless (France x Mute Reader)

The allies were on a visit to France's house. Wanting nothing out of the place while the 4, I mean... 5 (with Canada) visitors were in there, the french's lover, known as (f/n) or (country), constantly ran around the house to check if there was a piece of clothing, a plate, anything that wasn't where it was supposed to be.  
"(F/n), mon amour, please sit down et keep us company." begged Francis, tired of seeing her running around; she was about to refuse, but he disarmed her with a sudden suggestion: "I'll 'elp later wizh zhe tasks!?" now that was something she couldn't deny.  
With a silent sigh, the girl sat down beside her lover, complying to the male's wishes.  
"Merci!" he thanked, taking one of her hands in his and placing a soft kiss on it's back. She gave him a soft smile in return. All the while, 5 other males observed the trade: Russia's childish grin didn't change, remaining present all the while; Canada, being a sensitive person/country, blushed a bit but remained silent; China had a soft smile on; England remained neutral about all of the situation, still mad at the fact that he had been force to go to the 'frog-face''s house; America, being America, had to ask:  
"Dude, how do you deal with it? You know, her being mute and all..."  
"You bloody idiot, don't be rude!" reprehended the british that happen to be sitting on (f/n)'s other side, even though he and the french were always fighting, the quarrel had nothing to do with the girl. He was about to get up and probably begin a wrestle with the american, but a soft weight being pressed on his arm called him to the attention that it was okay, so he stayed put, muttering under his breath about rudeness and lack of tact.  
"It's alright!" stated the french, backing up his lover's action. "You know, America... Words are somezhing 'umans invented a long time ago, before zhat invention, zhey were able to survive. Words were only created to facilitate zhings; zhey are useful mais not fundamental. Love is somezhing zhat does not require words to exist, it is a language in itself. What I want to say wizh zhis is zhat for someone who really loves, words are not needed. I don't need (f/n) to utter a single word to know exactly what she wants or means, et I know zhat zhe same applies to 'er about me!"  
Feeling a grasp on his arm, he looked down and to the side to see a loving smile; he gently kissed her forehead. The next moment, she placed one hand on her chest and the other upon his, then, simulating the action of grabbing her heart, she took the hand away from her chest and placed it on top of the hand she had placed upon the male's chest; touched, he took her into an embrace and whispered:  
"Je t'aime aussi, (f/n), mon amour!"  
"Man, you guys really are deep!"


End file.
